Top 40 Albums of 2024 (30 - 26)
Posted by Captain Beyond Zen on Thursday, December 5, 2024
30. Freedom - Stay Free!
Genres: Rock, Power Pop
Label: Wild Kingdom
Location: Stockholm, Sweden
Freedom’s latest album, Stay Free!, is a shotgun blast of youthful abandon, drenched in sunshine, and sprinkled with just enough cynicism to make you wonder if they even believe in the freedom they’re singing about.
Let’s get one thing clear: this is not your typical “let’s be free” anthem album. Nope. The title might make you think you’re in for some inspirational, liberating experience, but what you get instead is more of a cheeky nod to the contradictions we all live with. It’s like inviting you to a freedom party but then locking you in a room with a bunch of punk rockers who just can't stop criticizing the guest list.
Opening track “Tonight” kicks off with such a bang that it almost demands you raise your glass—then promptly takes a shot at the genre it’s playing in. Power pop with bite. Or is it punk wrapped in a Beatlesque bow? It's as if they swiped the blueprint from The Clash and gave it a Scandinavian twist. You’ll find yourself toe-tapping, then awkwardly stopping because, suddenly, you’re questioning the “freedom” you thought you understood.
There’s a lot of contrast on Stay Free!: sugary, high-pitched harmonies swirl in one track, while the next has gritty guitars and gritty vocals that make you wonder if the band spent more time rehearsing at a dive bar than at a studio. You can practically smell the sweat on tracks like “Eye Of The Storm”—the kind of tune you want to dance to, but might end up tripping over your own feet instead.
At times, Stay Free! plays like a scavenger hunt for contradictions. The pop hooks are relentless, catchy enough to stick in your head like bubblegum in your hair. But you can’t forget that they’re surrounded by a rough-and-tumble attitude that feels more like a street fight than a dance-off. Songs like “I'm Going To Leave You” have a jaded optimism that makes you think, Okay, sure, I’ll never look back, but I’ll still try to figure out if freedom’s actually worth chasing or just a very cool illusion. The cynicism and freedom in the lyrics aren’t incompatible—they’re just presented as a reality check. If your freedom feels a little like a hangover, Stay Free! gets it.
By the time you get to “This Is Gonna Hurt,” you’re pretty much thrown into the deep end of self-doubt. The production is crisp, yes, but it has this raw edge to it that’s sort of unsettling. If this is what freedom sounds like, maybe you don’t want it after all? You’ll be confused, but that's the point.
There’s an art to confusion in music, a special kind of messy brilliance, and Stay Free! has it in spades. It’s clear that Freedom is embracing the paradox: fun, but not too fun; free, but never careless.
The album never lingers too long in any particular moment, which keeps things fresh—when you start to feel comfortable with one vibe, they’ll throw you into another one. It's like they keep you at arm's length from true catharsis, giving you just enough joy to make you ache for more.
So, do you stay free after listening to this album? Maybe. But more likely, you’ll find yourself not doubting whether “freedom” is worth it. And isn’t that the point?
Stay Free! isn’t an album that makes freedom easy—it makes it complicated, weird, and worth thinking about. And maybe that's the most freedom of all.
29. Kólga - Black Tides
Genres: Surf Punk, Surf Rock, Black Metal, Psychedelic Rock
Label: Otitis Media
Location: Dallas, TX, USA
Imagine a darkened surfboard cutting through a storm-churned sea, where the waves are made of molten pitch, and the ocean breeze carries the scent of smoldering wood. Now imagine you're holding that surfboard—no, riding that surfboard—straight into a nightmare sunset, with a sky full of twisted guitar riffs and a pounding rhythm that threatens to split the horizon in two. Welcome to Black Tides, the latest offering from KÓLGA, a band from Texas that seems determined to drown all notions of genre in a sea of blackened chaos, reverberating feedback, and righteous dissonance.
KÓLGA’s debut album is, in the simplest terms, a fever dream wrapped in barbed wire and drenched in sea salt. The band’s sound—blackened surf punk—seems like an impossible combination at first, a contradiction that shouldn’t exist but somehow does. It's as though someone grabbed the guitars of Dick Dale, drowned them in Black Sabbath’s abyss, and then pushed them into a speed metal hurricane.
The opening track, “Space Beach Massacre,” thrusts you into a maelstrom of reverb-heavy guitar licks that ride the line between the beach party and a funeral procession. It’s fast, it’s ferocious, and it feels like something has gone terribly wrong in the sky. Waves of distortion crash into the listener, as if the band is mocking the concept of “clean” guitar tones. But there’s a rhythm to it, a pulse that makes you want to move—no matter how chaotic or wrong it feels. There’s something deliciously off about it all, like a bad trip on a beautiful day.
The drums, relentless and thunderous, act as the storm itself, creating the illusion of a torrential downpour while the vocals, buried deep beneath layers of fuzz, feel more like guttural calls to some primal, forgotten sea god. It’s the kind of vocal style that isn’t meant to be understood, more like a guttural signal from the abyss—feral, angry, and barely human.
Tracks like "Squall of Cthulhu" exemplify what KÓLGA does best—blending the furious pace of punk rock with the grim atmosphere of black metal. It’s like watching a tidal wave coming towards you, feeling the panic and thrill in equal measure. The surf elements are still there—those fleeting moments of twangy reverb, the nods to old-school surf rock guitar, but they’re quickly drowned by the overwhelming intensity of the blackened metal soundscapes. The surf elements are there to remind you that, once, this could have been beach music. But not today. Not anymore. Today, it’s a soundtrack for an apocalypse.
What stands out is how KÓLGA uses dissonance to create a sense of movement. There's a palpable unease in the way they bend and twist the structures of traditional surf punk, subverting expectations with every jagged riff. It’s an album that feels like it’s trying to rip itself apart—both in sound and spirit—and yet it all somehow holds together. The moments of melodic grace are fleeting, but they exist—brief moments of calm before the storm, like the eye of a hurricane. These quiet interludes, like the track "Riptide," could be the sound of a lone surfer floating on the ocean's surface, just before they’re pulled back into the depths.
Midway through the album, "Endless Bummer" is where KÓLGA does something truly remarkable: they step out from the churning waves of distortion and take a deep breath. The track has a haunting, almost ethereal quality, blending eerie surf guitar tones with a cold, blackened atmosphere. There’s a weird sense of melancholy here, something you might not expect from an album that’s been so unrelenting up until now. For a moment, you almost forget that you’re listening to a band that has been breaking all the rules.
But then the waves crash back in. The band refuses to let you linger too long in that quiet space, dragging you back into the storm with “Is This Real?,” which is as punishing as it is beautiful. It’s like watching a shipwreck in slow motion: part horror, part awe.
By the time you hit the final track, "The Kraken," the album has taken you through so many sonic extremes that you feel like you’ve been pulled under the surface and spat back out again. There's something almost ritualistic about the way KÓLGA brings the album to a close—there’s no closure, no resolution, just a fading spiral into chaos, as if the tide itself refuses to give you a final answer.
And that’s the essence of Black Tides. It’s not an album that seeks to be loved or even understood. It doesn’t follow any traditional structure; it doesn’t care about your expectations of what surf punk should sound like. Instead, KÓLGA creates a world unto itself—dark, strange, and wholly hypnotic. It is an album that exists outside the confines of genre, blurring the lines between black metal, punk, and something else entirely.
In a world full of bands that are content to play it safe, KÓLGA plunges into the deep end, pulls you in, and dares you to drown with them. Black Tides is not for the faint of heart—it’s for the brave, the mad, the ones who know that there’s beauty in the wreckage. Ride the wave if you dare.
28. Gjenferd - Gjenferd
Genres: Hard Rock, Stoner Rock
Label: Apollon
Location: Bergen, Norway
Gjenferd, the Norwegian band that shares its name with the album, has delivered a powerful and atmospheric self-titled debut, "Gjenferd," a thrilling blend of stoner rock and hard rock influences. The band's ability to combine heavy riffs, smoky atmospherics, and gritty, emotion-laden vocals marks this record as an impressive and immersive experience.
From the outset, "Gjenferd" delivers a raw and earthy sound. The opener, "High Octane," sets the tone with a thick, fuzzy riff that builds into an expansive groove. The song's slow-burning intensity invites the listener to sink into its deep bass and stomping drums, establishing the mood of the album as one of hypnotic heaviness. Vocals are delivered with grit and passion, evoking a sense of haunting nostalgia that runs through the album.
As the album progresses, tracks like "Starless" and "Burning Soil" bring an atmospheric quality to the music. The band isn't afraid to stretch out their compositions, incorporating lengthy instrumental sections that swirl with fuzz-laden guitar solos, subtle keyboard textures, and thunderous rhythms. These instrumental passages are a standout feature of the album, showcasing the band's chemistry and their ability to create layers of sound that are both dense and immersive.
"Restless Nights" is a standout track, mixing stoner rock’s trademark memorable melodies with a hard rock sensibility. The track surges forward with an infectious groove that builds into a powerful, almost anthemic chorus. The duality between heaviness and melody is expertly executed here, and it’s one of the moments on "Gjenferd" where the band fully comes into their own, capturing their unique identity within a crowded genre.
While the album is full of fuzzed-out, heavy moments, Gjenferd also knows when to pull back and let the atmosphere take over. The album provides moments of respite, blending cleaner tones and more ethereal instrumentation before returning to the weighty riffs that dominate the record.
One of the album's most impressive aspects is its production. The mix strikes a balance between vintage stoner rock and modern hard rock sensibilities, with a warm yet powerful sound that allows each instrument to shine. The bass is thick and present, creating a sonic foundation that the guitars build on with their characteristic fuzz, while the drums pound with just the right amount of weight.
The haunting title of the album, "Gjenferd," which translates to "ghost" in Norwegian, is reflected in the lyrical content, evoking a sense of lingering spirits and fading memories. It’s a fitting backdrop for the atmospheric tone of the album, giving it a sense of melancholy and depth.
Overall, "Gjenferd" is a strong debut from a band that clearly knows how to craft a captivating and atmospheric rock album. With their mix of hard-hitting stoner rock and melancholic, expansive soundscapes, Gjenferd has shown that they are a band to watch in the rock scene. This album is not just a heavy listen; it's a journey that invites you to lose yourself in the ghosts of its sound. Fans of bands like Slomosa, Kryptograf and Hazemaze will find much to love here, but Gjenferd also offers something uniquely their own.
27. Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats - Nell' Ora Blu
Genres: Psychedelic Rock, Progressive Rock, Horror Synth, Film Soundtrack, Heavy Psych, Spoken Word
Label: Rise Above
Location: Cambridge, United Kingdom
Let me take you to a place that exists between consciousness and oblivion—a place where time seems to curl up like smoke, floating aimlessly in a vacuum of dark, psychedelic riffs. Nell' Ora Blu, the latest offering from Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats, is not so much an album as it is a journey to the edge of the known universe, a daring leap into sonic darkness, punctuated by flashes of eerie light.
Imagine, if you will, the moment just before the clock strikes midnight. You’re standing in a room filled with thick, velvet shadows, the air heavy with a fragrance that smells like decay, but oddly comforting. The walls are lined with old records, the smell of vinyl clinging to the room. But none of this is quite as it seems. The needle drops and suddenly, you’re off—the sound of Nell' Ora Blu engulfing your senses, wrapping itself around you like the kind of eerie lullaby you’d hear in a forgotten dream.
From the first synthesizer sounds, this album grabs you by the collar and never lets go. It doesn’t care if you’re ready. It doesn’t care if you understand it. What it does care about is taking you places—grim, unsettling places where fuzzed-out guitars melt into ghostly whispers and distant vocals linger like half-forgotten memories. It’s doom-laden but not in the usual way. This is a deliciously hypnotic brand of doom, seductive yet sinister, like a velvet glove hiding a clenched fist.
The album is the perfect blend of gothic nostalgia and ominous futurism, and yet there is something so refreshingly unhinged about it. The riffs are massive, yes, but there’s a languid, almost ethereal quality to them as well. Some tracks sound like a lullaby from a horror film being sung to a creature that’s half-alive, half-dead, rocking back and forth in the moonlight, and you can’t help but be entranced by it. It’s hypnotic, like a broken carnival tune.
Then the atmosphere turns downright sinister—fuzzy guitars pile on top of one another like the sound of crumbling bricks. It’s dark, but not in a traditional sense. This isn’t the darkness of despair—it’s more like the sensation of being lost in a labyrinth of your own making. The percussion throbs and pulses, the bass a steady heartbeat in the background, and the guitar wails like a banshee, but there’s no panic. It’s almost as if the band is daring you to lose yourself in it.
Yet, throughout the album, there’s this ineffable sense of time that feels strangely warped. Like you’re not just listening to music, but experiencing it in a parallel dimension where everything is distorted. The title Nell' Ora Blu (which translates to "In the Blue Hour") is appropriate, as it captures that fleeting moment between the sunset and the deep night when everything is tinged with surreal, twilight colors. You can feel that blue hour seeping into the grooves of the record, coaxing you into a hypnotic trance.
And while Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats might be known for their retro-inspired fuzz, Nell' Ora Blu takes that formula and stretches it, bends it, and reimagines it. It’s the sound of something that’s aware of the past, but actively rejecting it in favor of creating its own mythology. The album’s Italian influence—through its title, some lyrics, and its cinematic flair—adds a layer of mystique. It’s like hearing an old spaghetti western score reverberate through an ancient ruin, alive with the echoes of something darker.
But here’s the kicker: this isn’t just an album you listen to—it’s an experience you feel in your bones, in your soul. It refuses to be background noise. Nell' Ora Blu is a slow burn of wistful beauty that could haunt you for days—or maybe just a fleeting moment, like a ghost that lingers only to vanish before you can catch it.
So, should you listen to it? Only if you’re brave enough to wander into the fog, armed with nothing but your sense of dread and wonder. Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats aren’t here to comfort you; they’re here to show you a dark corner of the world you may not have known existed—and it’s all strangely beautiful.
26. Black Pyramid - The Paths of Time Are Vast
Genres: Stoner Metal, Heavy Psych, Doom Metal, Psychedelic Rock
Label: Totem Cat
Location: Northampton, MA, USA
The Paths of Time Are Vast, the latest album from the stoner/doom metal band Black Pyramid, invites listeners into a world of deep, cosmic heaviness and powerful riff-laden atmospheres. With a blend of classic metal influences and more modern stoner doom elements, the album is a testament to the band's ability to channel vast sonic landscapes through distorted guitars, thunderous drums, and haunting vocals.
Musicality and Sound: Black Pyramid has always thrived on blending the heaviness of doom with the expansive nature of stoner rock, and The Paths of Time Are Vast is no exception. The album kicks off with an enormous wall of guitar tones, thick and fuzzy, establishing an immediate sense of weight and power. The riff work is a highlight here, with each track unfolding like a journey into a mythical or cosmic realm. There is a clear reverence for the foundational doom bands like Sabbath and Electric Wizard, but also an exploration of spacey, expansive territory akin to more contemporary acts like Pallbearer.
The rhythm section is equally stellar, with the drums providing the backbone for the band's meandering, yet purposeful song structures. Whether it’s a slow, methodical pace or a faster, more aggressive passage, the drums never overshadow the atmosphere but always support the heaviness that defines Black Pyramid’s sound.
The vocals are raw, soulful, and slightly haunting, often sitting comfortably within the rough-edged confines of stoner doom. There is a sense of world-weariness in the delivery, as though the singer is narrating the saga of cosmic journeys or struggles against time itself. This vulnerability contrasts beautifully with the harsh, sprawling instrumentals, giving the album its emotional depth.
The track "Bile, Blame and Blasphemy" stands out for their ability to craft hypnotic grooves. The album’s centerpiece, "The Paths of Time Are Vast," encapsulates the balance of slow, deliberate doom riffing, building tension and atmosphere before exploding into powerful climaxes. The layered guitars and subtle shifts in dynamics keep the listener engaged, even during the slower, more meditative sections.
Thematically, The Paths of Time Are Vast leans heavily into cosmic and existential themes, exploring the nature of time, the unknown, and the journey into the infinite. These concepts align perfectly with the grandiosity of the album’s sound. The lyrics often evoke a sense of wanderlust, a yearning to understand what lies beyond the physical world, while acknowledging the inevitable passage of time that shapes all things.
The Paths of Time Are Vast is a stellar example of Black Pyramid’s ability to blend crushing doom with expansive, cosmic elements. The album’s production is raw yet polished enough to capture the vastness of the sound. The band excels at creating atmospheric heaviness, and their progression on this album shows a maturation in their songwriting. Whether you're a long-time fan of doom and stoner metal or a newcomer to the genre, this album delivers everything that makes the genre so compelling: powerful riffs, emotional depth, and a sense of grandeur that lingers long after the final note.
The Paths of Time Are Vast is a deeply immersive listen, offering both fans of the genre and newcomers a rich, rewarding experience that highlights the band's ability to evoke cosmic journeys through the powerful language of doom metal.
