The List 2021

Welcome

Hello, and welcome to The List 2021: my traditional annual rundown of my 20 favourite albums of the year (now in its 22nd iteration). All very simple: to qualify, an album needs to have been studio recorded, full length, and released in the year in question. Enjoy.

20 // KING BUFFALO // The Burden of Restlessness

While the poorly-pitched cover image for The Burden of Restlessness might suggest it’s a brutal death metal record, King Buffalo actually offer up proggy rock, with as much shoegaze as there is shoe stomping. So – although it has some more bruising aspects – for the most part expect spacey riffs, open air basslines, long instrumental parts and a general dreamy glaze. Porcupine Tree is a notable touchstone, as is early Oceansize. King Buffalo have really found their feet on album four, allowing much more room for everything to breathe and trusting the main hook to do the heavy lifting so that elsewhere they can explore. Even when things get chunkier, like on the musically robust (and lyrically disturbing) ‘Hebetation’, or on ‘Grifter’ (which recalls early Tool), it still is an album to which you can close your eyes and drift away. Nothing is rushed. The Burden of Restlessness may therefore infuriate the impatient, but give it time and you’ll find it’s quality ‘heavy mood music’.

19 // MOGWAI // As the Love Continues

The post-rock godfathers return with their best album for a while – at least since 2014’s Rave Tapes. It sees them on rather more familiar ground than they’ve been covering over the last decade or so. Despite some electronic leanings here and there (especially on the first few tracks), As the Love Continues is closer in tone and execution to their early work, especially their 1997 debut, Young Team. This feels like the Mogwai I first fell in love with. There’s more bite here than there has been for ages, with album best ‘Ceiling Granny’ (how’s that for a track name?) pounding out a slide riff to make the hairs stand on end. No post-rock at all on that bad boy, just rock. Elsewhere, the trademark ‘steady mood building up to crescendo’ is present and correct, as on ‘Fuck Off Money’ or ‘Pat Stains’. Admittedly, it’s maybe a little safe: this is Mogwai staying in their lane, at least to the extent that they have one. So, unlike, say, Rave Tapes or The Hawk is Howling, As the Love Continues has less capacity to surprise, as confirmed by its Mercury Music Prize nomination (a shortlist of inevitably good but safe records). That’s with the exception of lead single ‘Ritchie Sacramento’, on which we get a rare vocal outing from Stuart Braithwaite, sounding delightfully bored with the whole business. They’ve now hit album 10 (more if you count soundtrack albums), and they’re still fantastic.

18 // BODIES OF WATER // Is This What It’s Like

Having begun their career as perfectly fine but, for me, fairly unremarkable Arcade Fire wannabes, LA’s Bodies of Water – led by married couple Meredith and David Metcalf – pivot somewhat on album 5, towards something more interesting. Is This What It’s Like embraces a mix of vibrancy and melancholy, with minimal lo-fi folk jostling with prancing fiddle (‘Never Call Me Again’), vibraphones (‘Back in the Canyon’, ‘Women in Love’) and Kate Bush style bombast (‘The One I Loved Too Much’). David Metcalf’s voice has the dark resonance of Nick Cave, adding grandeur to everything, whereas Meredith brings the passion. It’s all quite earnest, but never so much so that it cloys. The residue of that Arcade Fire/Broken Social Scene/et al influence is still there, especially on the likes of ‘I Knew Your Brother’ and (album best) closer ‘Illuminate Yourself’, but now it is just one string to the bow and feels earned. Overall, Is This What It’s Like is a big step up.

17 // BEN KWELLER // Circuit Boredom

A regular placer on my early lists, amazingly it is 12 years since a Ben Kweller record has found its way on. Admittedly, he’s only released one album in the interim, 2012’s Go Fly a Kite, which somehow passed me by. Close to a decade on from his last outing – during which he’s spent time with his kids and nearly died from carbon monoxide poisoning – Kweller returns with his trademark easy song-writing style and oh-so-catchy indie charm. There’s lots to love here, like the defiant ‘Carelesss’ (sic), which really reminds me of his Radish days (albeit dialled back), rumbling and then soaring opener ‘Starz’ (sic again), and my album highlight ‘American Cigarettes’ (no sic), a lazy call and response refrain for summer. In the US, Circuit Boredom was a late 2020 album, but in the UK it was released on 1 January 2021. That means it’s eligible here, but it also underscores the longevity that this record has had for me: close to a year on and I’m still playing it. Great to have him back.

16 // MONO // Pilgrimage of the Soul

Pilgrimage of the Soul is a wonderful exercise in heavy but melodic post-rock. Although I don’t know their early work, I’d really enjoyed MONO’s last outing, 2019’s Nowhere Now Here, and it made my long list that year, only to fail to make the final 20. Pilgrimage of the Soul is stronger for two reasons. It’s much more consistent, and its quiet/loud dynamic is based on careful, steady progressions (which, having a taste that sits at the Mogwai end of post-rock, is more up my street). Actually, the best moments of Pilgrimage of the Soul are its quieter ones, like the opening licks of ‘Innocence’, the dreamy first half ‘Hold Infinity in the Palm of Your Hand’, or the utterly beautiful ‘And Eternity in an Hour’. Equally, I suspect I love these tracks so much because they are almost always heading somewhere; MONO don’t drift off and so nor do you. The crescendo kicks in eventually. It’s not perfect: for example, I’m less keen on ‘Heaven is a Wild Flower’, which has never managed fully to grab me. All in all, though, this is classy stuff.

15 // EVERY TIME I DIE // Radical

As a genre, metalcore has usually been a bit too rich for my blood over the years. Perhaps not surprising, then, that stalwarts of that (sub?) genre, Every Time I Die, have never really drawn me in before, despite being acclaimed in the heavy music press for over two decades now. It’s hard to pin down why, with album 9, they suddenly piqued my interest. Nonetheless, Radical managed to enter my rotation when it was released in October, and it hasn’t left. Fair to say they still make metalcore, so much of the record is potentially impenetrable: this placing on my list comes with a genuine health advisory. Equally, Radical’s screamo firewall hides a penchant for melody that has kept me coming back. This is… catchy. There are also some outstanding riffs, song-writing of real quality (‘The Thing with Feathers’ would be a huge hit for a less aurally confrontational rock band), and a talent for self-depreciating social commentary. The outstanding ‘White Void’ (NB: contender for my favourite track of the year) highlights well how Every Time I Die are here mixing earworm choruses with violent metalcore. Despite its unexpected nuances, though, this is still a fair bit heavier than I would normally venture. Brace.

14 // POM POM SQUAD // Death of a Cheerleader

Pom Pom Squad’s debut record is a mix of power grunge, new wave punk, and kitschy glam. After a disorientating floaty intro (a refrain that recurs), first track proper ‘Head Cheerleader’ crashes in, recalling Hole at their best, and taking no prisoners. ‘Shame Reactions’ heads even further down the punk trail, verging on hardcore, whereas ‘Drunk Voicemail’ is all about the grunge. But there’s also a romantic (or sometimes perhaps anti-romantic) streak running through Death of a Cheerleader, with bandleader Mia Berrin at times slowing things down and reflecting via the medium of the 60s ballad. ‘This Couldn’t Happen’ is sweet, sad and slight, and ‘Crying’ is a disarming guitar lament. The result is a record that shifts – without ever veering – from its rockier centre to something much more sedate and deliberate, and then shifts back again. The lyrics, too, range from the throwaway to the nuanced, covering both standard teenage angst and considered ruminations on the transition to adulthood. At 23, Berrin is a songwriter to watch.

13 // VILLAGERS // Fever Dreams

The last time a Villagers album made this list was with their (his? I think it’s just Conor O’Brien and a revolving cast) excellent 2010 debut, Becoming a Jackal. It placed a healthy 8th that year (as well as being Mercury Music Prize nominated – a comparable honour, I’d say). Not sure why, but although I’ve revisited Becoming a Jackal on occasion, I never sought out albums 2 through 4 or even realised they existed. Album 5 got on my radar after a podcast recommendation, and it shows a notable song-writing progression from where I left O’Brien 11 years ago. With Fever Dreams, he is venturing well beyond the slight indie-folk of his early work, while also keeping simplicity as the nucleus. The tracks here are melodic and beautiful, taking a folk template but then adding light touches of jazz, lounge, pop and soul. They often meander but will snap back to a melody or catchy line, meaning things never get bogged down while O’Brien is playing about with form. Delicate but deep, and with the odd curveball (the last third of the otherwise beautiful ‘Circles in the Firing Line’ is suddenly a sweary punk refrain). There’s only one misstep: the opening salvo mini-track ‘Something Bigger’ is a jarring and ill-judged entry point. That aside, this is a charming and adventurous collection of songs.

12 // SLEEP TOKEN // This Place Will Become Your Tomb

When I was a teenager, I’m sure I would have lapped up Sleep Token’s pageantry – the masks, the mystery (speculation about who they are, and especially who their mastermind, ‘Vessel’, might be underneath that Assassin’s Creed style veil, is keeping the rock press busy). But I’m far too old now for all that silliness to mean much to me. Equally, their theatrics don’t detract from the fact that the music is genuinely excellent. I came to this having already fallen in love with their 2019 debut, Sundowning (albeit too late for it to make my list that year). And, as sophomore albums go, This Place Will Become Your Tomb is about as good as can reasonably be asked for. It’s more ambitious than their debut, expanding the tone and scope and adding a number of surprises, while still keeping the elements that made Sleep Token stand out first time round. Their ‘sound’ was always pretty difficult to pin down, but now it’s even more diffuse. The best I have is ‘piano ballads and electro pop punctuated by sudden flashes of nu metal’. Which probably makes it sound a lot less good than it is. Perhaps better is a description I saw on Twitter: “Coldplay’s Chris Martin if he grew up listening to Deftones”. This means, more so than the masks and the imagery, that Sleep Token are at once both mainstream and subversive. This Place Will Become Your Tomb is a rare second album that outdoes its predecessor.

11 // FORTITUDE VALLEY // Fortitude Valley

The self-titled debut by Fortitude Valley – now UK based but named after the Brisbane suburb from which their leader, Laura Kovic, hails – is a power pop dream. Breezy, quality rock tunes of 2-3 minutes rattle by, each as catchy and joyous as the last. The whole record is only 31 minutes long: Fortitude Valley are very careful to keep everything short and oh so sweet. Not a single duff track, it’s impressive stuff. Particular highlights include the two versions of ‘The Right Thing’ – Pt. 1 a pop-punk ditty, Pt. 2 a languid ballad (together reminding me of how much I like both ‘Polly’ and ‘(New Wave) Polly’). Opener ‘Baby, I’m Afraid’ is emotionally raw but musically free, and ‘Forget About Me’ makes a case for being the happiest break-up song ever, riding the wave of a chirpy guitar lick into the album’s best chorus. This was only released in late October and I’m still playing it all the time. Certainly, it is continuing to grow in my estimation: a placing of 11th is impressive given the short time it’s had to take hold, but I think it may also undersell where this could have ended up had it been a spring release. A fantastic debut.

10 // SLEATER-KINNEY // Path of Wellness

This is Sleater-Kinney’s best record since they reconvened in 2015, and a case could be made for it being their best ever. They’ve always oozed confidence and quality, but on Path of Wellness, they really are operating at the very top of their game. The choruses consistently grab, and the verses build and twist in interesting and surprising ways. A return to straighter rock after dabbling with (amongst other things) weird electro-doom on 2019’s disappointing The Center Won’t Hold, Path of Wellness benefits hugely from the refocus. The booming opening to ‘High in the Grass’ and its subsequent segue into bass led math rock is a highlight for me, as is the lo-fi menace of ‘No Knives’. Many bands are labelled ‘feminist’ simply because they have female members (or even just one) but Sleater-Kinney have, of course, always had a genuine feminist focus to many of their lyrics. Path of Wellness is no different, with its crowning lyrical moment being the wonderful exploration of male hypocrisy that is ‘Complex Female Characters’. It’s a track that has been cited by some as being very ‘now’ or ‘Me2 era’, but I’d argue that actually it’s pretty timeless. More than 25 years since their debut album, Path of Wellness is a showcase for masters at work.

9 // FOO FIGHTERS // Medicine at Midnight

While it definitely waned in the second half of 2021, this is still my favourite Foo Fighters record for a decade. It’s certainly their most adventurous for a long time (ever?), dabbling in drum loops, backing singer harmonies and uncharacteristic echoes of Prince and ‘Let’s Dance’ era Bowie. After their last album – the perfectly enjoyable but extremely safe Concrete & Gold – the risks taken this time make Medicine at Midnight feel fresh throughout. It’s all the better for it, even if not everything tried works (for example, ‘Waiting on a War’ is a dull soft rock misstep, compounded by it being one of the two lead singles). For the most part, though, this is great fun. ‘Shame Shame’ is weirder than anything they’ve done before and really digs in deep, whereas funky monkey ‘Cloudspotter’ (why not cowbells?) is a delight: Queens of the Stone Age meets Scissor Sisters. Another highlight is the groove-chorus of ‘Holding the Poison’. I may have got overly excited when this was released, just because I was so delighted that it confounded my expectations. With a little distance, it’s still a long way off their 90s masterworks. But we’ve had nothing this good from Dave and the boys since Wasting Light in 2011, and – for all its quality – that record wasn’t anywhere near as off-piste as this one is. There’s life in the old dogs yet.

8 // ROYAL BLOOD // Typhoons

Initially I was fairly disappointed with Royal Blood’s third album. Typhoons felt less immediate and less vital than what had gone before. But it turns out that it is a persistent record. I found I kept returning to it, and with repeat listens came a shift in perspective about what I was looking for from Royal Blood. The signs were there. In my write up to their sophomore album in 2017 (which also placed 8th), I said that there was one outlier track that that “suggest[ed] that album three may move things forward…”. Typhoons does just that (it just took me a few months to follow). This is no longer a garage rock two piece – Mike Kerr and Ben Thatcher are now joined by an array of accompaniments, from layered backing singing to synths and samples. Typhoons is an exercise in propulsive dance rock, and – while it is still a progression (rather than complete diversion) from where they were – Royal Blood now share more DNA with Bloc Party than with The Black Keys. Highlights are the future-blues of ‘Hold On’, delicate piano closer ‘All We Have is Now’ (where did that come from?) and the sing-along joyride of the title track. It’s another consistently excellent, and commendably different, record. A clear bid for longevity, I wonder what’s next.

7 // NEW PAGANS // The Seed, the Vessel, the Roots and All

After a couple of strong EPs, New Pagans deliver up a notably assured and confident debut album. Noisy riot-indie, with a punk rock sensibility and some truly anthemic choruses (as well as a dab of the gothic and another of new age), The Seed, the Vessel, the Roots and All is a classy lesson in mixing bite with melody. Musically, highlights are the muscular ‘Bloody Soil’ (note: great guitar solo), and the super-catchy ‘Yellow Room’, which ends with a driving (and unexpected) heavy riff. Lyrically, New Pagans have a lot to say about mansplaining and the marginalisation of the female voice, but they also offer ruminations on the process of childbirth (‘Harbour’ pulls no punches about that subject: “Recoil, suffer / Silence for a minute / It's just you and me now”), the nature of art (or, at least, of being ‘an artist’), religious hypocrisy, connection to nature and – that lyrical staple – Irish embroidery. It’s rarely a ‘happy’ ride, but it generally feels contemplative rather than preachy or angsty, despite the (mostly) weighty subject-matter. The Seed, the Vessel, the Roots and All is a raw, honest and intelligent debut, which also packs a notable punch when it wants to. New Pagans have been hotly tipped for a couple of years now: that promise has been more than fulfilled here.

6 // PIZZAGIRL // Softcore Mourn

After a great 2019 debut album and a song-of-the-year standalone single in 2020, Pizzagirl (aka Liam Brown) returns with an even better sophomore album. Softcore Mourn is full of mature hooks, witticisms and quirks (“sorry if I made you mad because I said you looked like Al Pacino”; “if you are what you eat, then you must eat some shit”) and an overarching fascination with the digital now. It’s a record of grown-up modern pop, which is endlessly hummable while straddling various genres (electro, acoustic indie, rock ballad, and plenty more) with ease. There’s a definite 80s vibe (‘Bullet Train’, et al), but also beach bum cool (‘Your Flat Earth Brother’ – an ode to loved ones who are wrong), plucked guitar on the urban melancholia of the intro to ‘By the Way’ (not a Red Hot Chili Peppers cover), and nostalgia driven dance rock on the winning ‘Sugar Ray’. And that’s just the tip of the ear worm iceberg.

5 // TŌTH // You and Me and Everything

The second album by Alex Toth (macron in his band name but not in his actual name) is, ultimately, about recovery. He’s still unpicking the collapse of a relationship – the same breakup that fuelled every aspect of his melancholic debut – but here the emphasis is on moving forward. Right from the opening track, ‘Habit Creature’, Tōth tells himself to “begin what we call healing”. He mostly follows his own advice, and the results are much more upbeat without losing his work’s emotional core. Although, admittedly, by closing track ‘The Driving’ things have slipped again (“My heart’s still broken / And I let the pain inside do the driving”). Musically, like Pizzagirl, Tōth is a multi-instrumentalist, who plays with elements of chamber pop, experimental folk, and lo-fi indie. At points this record reminds me of Father John Misty’s masterpiece I Love You, Honeybear, which topped this list in 2015. But You and Me and Everything covers more diverse ground. The upbeat songs, like the playful ‘Jesse’s House’, are loads of fun, as are the softer acoustic tunes, like ‘Turnaround (Cocaine Song)’. But it’s the ‘orchestral’ tracks that truly soar, with the likes of ‘Butterflies’ and the outstanding ‘Daffadowndilly’ propelling this album up to the top 5 of this list. At least a third of this record is utterly stunning, and with a bit more consistency next time, Tōth could deliver something very special indeed.

4 // FLYTE // This Is Really Going to Hurt

Like Tōth’s You and Me and Everything, This Is Really Going to Hurt is another sophomore record, and another breakup album. Flyte’s Will Taylor is on an earlier stage of his breakup journey than Alex Toth, though, and as a result there’s a lot more pain on display here. On ‘Losing You’, Taylor is very clear: “You’ve cut me through and through.” Whereas, on ‘Easy Tiger’, he tries (and seemingly fails) to talk himself round: “Go easy, tiger, this is only going to get worse / Go easy, tiger, you’re a survivor.” This Is Really Going to Hurt is unquestionably an emotionally self-indulgent record, but it is also extremely heartfelt and, on more than one track, genuinely moving. There is also some lyrical bile here and there, which is unsettling but tonally interesting. Musically, the primary focus is beautiful pop folk, with delicate guitar and harmonised vocals. But there’s also a harder 60s proto-rock sound that rears up here and there (‘Under the Skin’, ‘Trying to Break Your Heart’). Best on show is ‘I’ve Got a Girl’, with its bobbing baseline verse and soaring chorus. Musically, the song-writing here is pretty much flawless; lyrically there is beauty, pain, and ugliness. Overall, This Is Really Going to Hurt is a record that’s consistently interesting and emotionally real. Well worth your time.

3 // BICURIOUS // (re)constructed

An outstanding debut from this (near)instrumental Irish-French two piece. Occupying the heavy (and less po-faced) end of math rock, Bicurious are a party band masquerading as auteurs. Yes, there’s the genre’s complex time signatures, but there’s also the odd chugging riff, some sterling sample-bothering (goats!), and a significant dance rock underpinning. More hyper than hypotenuse, (re)constructed is playful and raw math rock. Like a weird mix of Public Service Broadcasting, The Whip and Godspeed You! Black Emperor, Bicurious score some big ‘something a bit different’ points. That is one reason this has placed so high. The other is consistency. ‘We’re All Totally Fucked’ takes a, shall we say, philosophical approach to the pandemic, and is excellent, especially in its second half. ‘Palapalapa’ is their bid for acceptance, as the most accessible track on show (in a good way), with a chorus that could be sung on football terraces. ‘Like We Used To’ is all about the opening drums. And album best ‘Deconstructed’ takes a simple jarring refrain, messes with it till it’s something entirely different, and then cracks it open with a riff to die for. Overall, (re)constructed is refreshing, complicated, delicate, heavy and occasionally delightfully silly. Goats.

2 // WEEZER // OK Human

When putting together the list there’s always a cut off between the truly great albums of the year and ‘the rest’. This year there were two records that were light years ahead of the pack – as confirmed by the fact that 18 of my 20 most played tracks on Spotify in 2021 were from either OK Human or the album that I’ve ranked above it.

Out of the blue, Weezer have delivered their best album for more than 20 years, and it’s not even the highest profile record they released this year. Two albums in a year is impressive work for any band, and their classic rock sandpit experiment, Van Weezer, is also lots of fun. Spoiler, though, it’s not my number 1. As for OK Human itself, it’s an ode to the pandemic hermit, as viewed through that very particular Rivers Cuomo lens. The pandemic, and lockdowns specifically, have fuelled a lot of good art, but Rivers is one of the few artists who seems actually to have enjoyed being forcibly shut away for months on end. He might bemoan the “same old dull routines” (on ‘Aloo Gobi’), but I don’t believe he means it. The joy of thoughts and time and books is so explicit, especially on the wonderful ‘Grapes of Wrath’. Perhaps the only downside for Rivers is our yet further increased reliance on technology, as most starkly highlighted on ‘Screens’: “Everyone stares at the screens / I miss my friends / I miss my family.” Weezer have always been a band that would rather try and fail than stay in lane, but OK Human’s orchestral chamber pop (and occasional ratpack piano ballad) definitely pushes the envelope more than usual. It’s all recognisably Weezer, but on a much grander scale. I love every track: for me it now sits alongside their first three (masterpiece) records.

1 // PRESS TO MECO // Transmute

Press to MECO’s first two albums entirely passed me by. In fact, although they’ve been around for a decade, I’d not even heard of them until 2021. A recommendation on a podcast turned me on to their third record. Arriving with no initial expectation – departure of a key band member after album two, pandemic restrictions during production – but then quickly amassing multiple glowing reviews, Transmute is an absolute triumph. Combining some elements of math rock and hardcore/post-hardcore/metalcore with (trademark) multi-layered harmonised vocals, as well as adding pools of calm and making sure that all the choruses are catchy as, this is intelligent but unpretentious rock. A number of aspects of Transmute remind me of Biffy Clyro in their pomp, although I think I prefer this to any particular Biffy album. There’s certainly the same mix of heavier material (some of it full on) with a song-writing ear for a hook. Press to MECO could now become a stadium filling band, no question.

Leaving aside a weird industrial intro (why?), every single track on Transmute is incredible, and this consistent quality is what ultimately meant that it topped my list this year. Nonetheless, I still have favourites. ‘Another Day’ is a wonderful opening (proper), with a bounce-bounce verse, soft bridge, and booming chorus. We’re off! ‘Baby Steps’ is more experimental, mixing emo with full blown post-rock. ‘Sabotage’ is a thundering, riff led delight. My favourite amongst these favourites is ‘Gold’, which showcases Transmute’s bipolarism well. It starts with nasty, almost Every Time I Die style metalcore, before twisting into a harmonised, bass lead bridge, and then – holy hell – unleashing a swirling AC/DC style classic rock riff that takes over and becomes the track. Wow.

Lyrically, a key concern running through the record is the environmental crisis (“They’re slowly throwing all that poison down the well”). Other points of focus include the endless tech revolution (“Do you need a rest / From the relentless progress?”), and the risk/reward of personal ambition (“This could take years / This could all end in tears”). It’s all fairly grown-up stuff, without ever feeling forced or pulling focus from the music.

Alongside OK Human, Transmute has defined 2021 for me. I’ve repeatedly come back to it, and I think there’s a very good chance that I’ll still be playing it in 2031. It’s early days, but I’d say this is the first proper contender for my album of the decade.

Taster Playlist for the List 2021

Here is a taster playlist on Spotify, with a track from each of the 20 albums on this list. Enjoy!

The List 2021 Spotify Playlist

Previous Years

Here are links to all of my previous lists, as well as taster playlists for each of them.

The List 2020
Spotify taster playlist for The List 2020

The List 2019

Spotify taster playlist for The List 2019

The List(s) 2000-2003 (added online in 2014)

Spotify taster playlist for The List 2003
Spotify taster playlist for The List 2002
Spotify taster playlist for The List 2001
Spotify taster playlist for The List 2000