Dear listeners,
Earlier this week, I shared a massive playlist of some of the best music released in 2024 — over 100 tracks, selected by Times music critics, from our lists of the year’s greatest albums and songs. Today, it’s time for another end-of-year Amplifier tradition: my playlist of older songs that defined my year.
When we look back at any given year, sometimes the soundtrack of that particular time is simply whatever hit was inescapable on the radio, or whatever new album we wore out on car speakers, turntables or headphones. But just as often, a year’s defining soundtrack can be an older song we discovered (or rediscovered) and came to associate with an indelible moment. This music doesn’t always fit the qualifications of a year-end list, but that doesn’t mean it’s not important.
As I did last year, I want to highlight some of the older songs I had on repeat in 2024 — and some of the life events they accompanied. What follows is a sort of musical memoir of my year, featuring tracks from MJ Lenderman, Cass Elliot, Women and plenty more.
I also want to hear about the songs that defined your year. Here’s a submission form where you can tell me about your favorite. Maybe it’s a new-to-you track you first encountered in 2024, or a familiar classic you found yourself reconnecting with and appreciating anew. We may include your selection and response in an upcoming Amplifier. If you want to see some great examples, here’s the playlist of songs that readers discovered in 2023.
Dame salúd y prosperidad,
Lindsay
Listen along while you read.
1. The Smiths: “How Soon Is Now?”
On a visit to Los Angeles in March, three of my dear friends and I sang this song at the top of our lungs in a private karaoke room, freshly reminded at an enveloping volume of something almost too obvious to even have to say: “How Soon Is Now?” absolutely rules. I love karaoke for its periodic reminders of very simple truths. I kept replaying this song for months, like a souvenir from a cherished trip, or a sonic talisman of long-distance friendship.
2. Bran Van 3000: “Drinking in L.A.”
Do you ever wake up with a song you haven’t thought about in years suddenly and immovably lodged in your head? I cannot remember exactly when the hook of this 1997 Canadian pop hit came rushing back to me, but once it did, “Drinking in L.A.” secured a permanent spot in my 2024 rotation. I was entranced by this track (and its colorful, wackily low-budget music video) when I was a preteen music snob shunning the familiarity of MTV in favor of its neighbor to the north, MuchMusic. What captivated me then still does now: For all its cartoonishness, there’s an alluring melancholy to “Drinking in L.A.” — plus it’s a rare pop song to use the profoundly underrated word “bupkis.”
3. Candelita: “OMG”
Jose Iglesias — a 34-year-old infielder who began this past M.L.B. season in the minor leagues and ended it the most beloved Latin pop star in Flushing, Queens — was one of the many reasons the 2024 New York Mets season was such a joy to witness. “OMG,” the riotously upbeat single he released this summer under the name Candelita, became the Mets’ victory anthem throughout their improbable postseason run — and my personal pick for song of the summer. Even if they fell just short of the World Series, the exuberance of “OMG” will forever remind me of the absurdist spirit of the ’24 Mets. Juan Soto, welcome to the party.
4. Paul Simon: “The Boy in the Bubble”
This song came back to me this fall in a roundabout way: While listening to Waxahatchee’s excellent 2024 album “Tigers Blood” and reflecting on how long I’d been a fan of Katie Crutchfield’s music, I thought back to one of the first times I’d seen her live, in 2013, at the sadly defunct Brooklyn venue 285 Kent. What I remember best about the set was a blistering, full-band cover of “The Boy in the Bubble” — with Crutchfield singing into the audience with urgency, “These are the days of miracle and wonder, this is the long-distance call.” This was right before the practice of recording on your phone shaky snippets of basically every song an artist plays became a ubiquitous (and contentious) live show practice, so I’ve never been able to find a video of it — which makes the version that lives in my memory that much more perfect. That said, if anyone out there has video of it and wants to send it to me, I certainly wouldn’t turn you away!
5. Cass Elliot: “Baby I’m Yours”
Of all the pieces I published this year, the one that meant the most to me was a re-examination of the legacy of Cass Elliot, coinciding with the 50th anniversary of her death and the publication of her daughter Owen Elliot-Kugell’s lovely book “My Mama Cass.” While researching the article, I immersed in Elliot’s music (and even made an entire Amplifier playlist of it) and emerged with a renewed appreciation for her talent, her resilience and her infectious joie de vivre.
6. Neil Young: “Human Highway”
In May, I checked a major entry off my musical bucket list when I saw Neil Young live for the first time — and with Crazy Horse, at that. The songs he played with the full band totally ripped, of course, but my most vivid memory of the performance is of Young triumphantly conquering some technical difficulties while playing a solo version of this bittersweet tune from his great 1978 album “Comes a Time.”
7. MJ Lenderman: “Knockin”
The Asheville, N.C., indie-rocker MJ Lenderman made my favorite album of 2024, the wry, hilarious and at times surprisingly moving “Manning Fireworks.” It was the first Lenderman album I connected with, and it made me revisit his earlier stuff with a new appreciation. I missed this smoldering tune when it was first released as a single last year — perhaps a timely reminder that our supposedly definitive year-end lists are always incomplete, vulnerable to belated discoveries that scramble their order and sense of assurance. Here’s to whatever does that to my 2024 list a few months from now.
8. Charli XCX: “Stay Away”
As a longtime fan of Charli XCX — we’re called Angels, naturally — it’s been surreal to witness the whole “Brat” phenomenon this year: Very few pop artists suddenly ascend to that level of success a decade and a half into their careers. It all made me nostalgic for the first time I heard Charli’s music, way back in summer 2011, when this wrenching, melodramatic ballad got a ton of play on my iPod.
9. Frank Sinatra: “Moonlight in Vermont”
Something very special happened to me this October: I spent a month at an artists’ residency in Johnson, Vt. Though it wasn’t long ago, the weeks I lived there — on a break from my day job and this newsletter, but working hard on the manuscript of a book I hope to finish writing next year — now feel like an unusually vivid dream. October is a particularly wonderful time to be in Vermont, for any reason, so it was easy to become enamored of the falling leaves, the bracing autumn air and slow but purposeful rhythm of the days there. And, of course — and especially for a city girl like me — the crisp clarity of the twinkling night sky. Plenty of artists have done great renditions of the standard “Moonlight in Vermont” (see also: Willie Nelson; Billie Holiday; Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong) but Sinatra’s version most closely matches the starry-eyed feeling I get when I remember my time among the Green Mountains.
10. Women: “Eyesore”
To me, Patrick Flegel’s unsettlingly beautiful music has always been a welcome reminder of impermanence. In October 2010, I was lucky enough to catch one of the final shows Flegel played with the Calgary quartet Women, who were then touring in support of their brilliant second album “Public Strain.” By the end of the month, during an infamous show in Victoria, B.C., Women would more or less break up onstage, never to release another album.
The scarcity of Women’s output, though, was suddenly contradicted this year by the absolute abundance of “Diamond Jubilee,” a two-hour triple album that Flegel released as Cindy Lee. It’s full of the sort of spidery riffs and haunting melodies that I loved on “Public Strain,” this time cut through with a pop sensibility and a twisted glamour. It’s also a refreshing statement of independence in this age of algorithms and instant access: Flegel released it for download on Bandcamp and as a single long track on YouTube but refused to put it on any other streaming services. That it found its audience anyway is a testament to the potent power of the music. Like the fleeting existence of a band I loved a decade and a half ago, Cindy Lee reminded me this year that great music is a finite commodity that should never be taken for granted.
The Amplifier Playlist
“10 Songs That Explain My Year” track list
Track 1: The Smiths, “How Soon Is Now?”
Track 2: Bran Van 3000, “Drinking in L.A.”
Track 3: Candelita, “OMG”
Track 4: Paul Simon, “The Boy in the Bubble”
Track 5: Cass Elliot, “Baby I’m Yours”
Track 6: Neil Young, “Human Highway”
Track 7: MJ Lenderman, “Knockin”
Track 8: Charli XCX, “Stay Away”
Track 9: Frank Sinatra, “Moonlight in Vermont”
Track 10: Women, “Eyesore”
The post 10 Songs That Explain My Year appeared first on New York Times.
