**Sorry I’m a year late. Imagine you’re exactly one year younger when you read this.**
When I write out my Music Week column every week, the very first talking point I consider relates to whether the band or artist in question has released any new music in recent months. And I’m glad to say that at least three-quarters of the bands and artists I give some light to have released something new recently, which made my job a hell of a lot easier this year.
Like every year, I didn’t listen to every single one of these as they released, and it was more of a sporadic deal. There were months where I’d just listen to my standard playlist on repeat without even paying any mind to new releases. An example being how in the fall, it completely went over my head that Paul Simon—my favorite songwriter of all time—and Edie Brickell released a new single called “Bad Dream.” I won’t pretend that the advertising for it was awesome, but I was still shocked when I heard about it a few days after it released to streaming services.
As for the adventures I had this year? While I’m grateful, and there’s plenty for me to talk about (which I’ll spare you from) 2024 really saw reality smack me in the face so often, you’d think I was hanging out with the Three Stooges.
Unfortunately, my lifelong struggle with mental illness really got the best of me more than almost ever. While I was relieved (but still a little bewildered) to receieve a long overdue ADHD diagnosis in November, depression stayed more constant than it ever has in the 10 years I’ve been dealing with it. It lingered through all 12 months rather than popping its head in and out. It caused heavy procrastination (which is why you’re reading this in 2025), a perpetual lack of energy, and even days where I felt like I’m wasting my life away and taking it too easy on myself. I’ve also been facing a loss of faith in humanity in the wake of recent events (both nationally and in my personal life), but I’m relieved that I spent the last quarter of the year finally starting to get some answers and solutions to help me cope.
Needless to say, there were plenty of positives, such as getting my foot in the door of Denver’s music journalism scene (a city that I hope to be writing to you from this time next year), taking a drive down the east coast with one of my best friends, and interviewing Slash, a guy I never thought I’d get to speak to. Hopefully, those experiences are what I’ll remember 2024 for, along with the great material that released at the same time.
I have to say, narrowing down my top 12 this year wasn’t super easy, and I’ll go a little more into why as I go along with each of my picks. But for now, happy new year, my friends. 2025’s gonna be wild, so remember to hold your head up, love big, and don’t ever back down.
January: Green Day – Saviors
Let’s be honest with ourselves: While I could never stay mad at Billie Joe Armstrong’s smushy face, it’s been pretty easy to identify weak links in Green Day’s discography since the end of the 21st Century Breakdown era (minus Revolution Radio, of course.) Thankfully, the beginning of a new year saw the end of that creatively mid period. Saviors is a lot more contemporary than anything I’ve heard from the boys, but as an album, it sails about as smoothly as Dookie does. In a non-cheesy way, the tracks come off as more directly relatable—whether you’re suffering from lack of faith in your country, or you grew up with American Idiot and now have kids—and the tour behind this album was nothing short of extravagant. Basically, I’m scared for this era to end, because I’m enjoying the hell out of it.
February: Jacob Collier – Djesse Vol. 4
I try and tell myself that with all my stories, I have no room to complain if an artist’s team doesn’t give me free review tickets to their Tampa show once in a while. It happens. But the only time I have been genuinely sad about this type of rejection was when I never heard back from Jacob Collier’s team about setting me up for a ticket to his stop in St. Pete in May. I remember listening to Djesse Vol. 4 on one of my drives to Tampa, and while I knew Jacob was very well-educated as a musician, I didn’t know just how innovative and diverse his sound is. Not only does he have some amazing guest collaborators on here, but it might be a challenge to categorize these songs under specific genres, because there’s really no right answer. He delves into tabla and sitar territory, modern pop, chill house, and of course, his signature choir touch on a version of “Bridge over Troubled Water.” His spirit as a whole really just gives you hope for the future, and with any luck, it won’t be too much longer until he returns to the States for some more shows.
March: Candi Carpenter – Demonology
The Jesus and Mary Chain came back, Faye Webster made Rolling Stone, and Mannequin Pussy released a new album that it would tour behind, leading to a quick phone conversation I almost missed with Marisa Dabice in the fall. But when I wrote about a Candi gig happening right behind my other workplace a few weeks ago, I was really touched by the themes and lyrics behind their debut album, and just had to throw it on this list. Demonology is basically a massive, indie-pop therapy session for a Gen Z kid with plenty of childhood trauma to mask, with flashbacks centered around growing up in a conservative Christian environment, Carpenter having their queer awakening triggered by the pink Mighty Morphin Power Ranger, and spending time having their mental health heavily evaluated in school and a psych ward. Unfortunately, just about every Gen Z’er I know (myself included) has some degree of trauma. You know, growing up religious, facing sexual assault, being gaslit by people who say they love you…lots of things. I’m not sure what the demographic ended up being at Candi’s gig in Safety Harbor, but if it was full of people close in age to us, a reminder that we’re not alone would have been the perfect way to close out a year that felt very isolating at times.
April: Vampire Weekend – Only God Was Above Us
I could go on for hours about The Tortured Poet’s Department and how seeing Taylor Swift live on the six-month anniversary of the album was nothing short of a mind-flip. But since I suspect that album is gonna make countless other top 12 lists, I can’t help but rave about this New York band that I discovered right before COVID-19 hit. I kept seeing ads for Only God Was Above Us on Instagram, and though I wasn’t big into Vampire Weekend’s last album Father of the Bride, I really dug the guitar lick on “Classical” that was being used in the ad, so I figured I’d give it a shot. Ezra Ogden writes such underrated melodies and riffs, and the tracks on this album are no exception. There are tracks I could have cried to when I spontaneously put in my two-weeks notice at Chili’s mid-month, and there are a few that have joyful shades of Vampire Weekend’s debut album and its clean, surf-esque guitar tones. It’s killing me that these guys haven’t been to Tampa Bay in a decade, and I just think that they’d be ideal for Gasparilla Music Festival headlining set. There’s no lineup or date for 2025 yet, so I think the kids do stand a chance.
May: The Avett Brothers – The Avett Brothers
These guys were the last act to ever play a side stage at the late, great Tampa Innings Fest, and though I kinda put them on the back burner after seeing them twice in 2023 (once at Innings, and again opening for Willie Nelson at his Outlaw Music Festival), I found myself in need of a good cry over the summer, so I remembered “I and Love and You,” and from there, I just showered them with all the attention I wish I had given them before. Especially with this album, I still await the day Scott and Seth start a folk-rock revolution, even if their Broadway show does close after a month-and-a-half run. It worked out for Paul Simon, after all.
June: Meghan Trainor – Timeless
For as much as Meghan hyped this album up as a doo-wop project, I was shocked that she didn’t have any backup singers, or even a band with her when I saw the second night of her Timeless tour. Not that it was a bad show or anything—and forgive me if I’m coming off as a progress-hating curmudgeon—but she really missed out on the opportunity to pull off something special. Still a solid album though, which really did capture the, err, timeless sound that she promised.
July: Jack White – No Name
I was seriously ready to drive to Nashville when this one surprise-dropped, because Third Man Records was the only place you could get No Name for its first week or so. I started hoping that I would find a bootleg somewhere online, but as luck would have it, the album finally emerged to the public not long after its Nashvillians-only previews. Not quite as exciting as Fear of the Dawn, but still a compelling dawn of a new era for the White Stripe. God-willing, Jack liked Tampa enough in 2022 to come back for a run of No Name shows.
August: Doechii – Alligator Bites Never Heal
As if we weren’t proud enough of Doechii for opening for Doja Cat in 2023. Down here in Tampa, we’re all enthralled that a hometown girl has not only made it as big as she has, but is up for Best New Artist at the Grammys. If she wins any Grammys at all next year, don’t be shocked if it triggers more producers and execs poking around Tampa Bay for the next big thing. Because Lord knows they probably live around here somewhere. Hopefully, Doechii does a larger-scale tour for this album, because while she played a small (and I mean small) hometown gig at Crowbar Ybor earlier this year, even with my credentials, I didn’t have a chance in hell getting in there. Can’t wait to see what the Swamp Princess does next, though.
September: Coin – I’m Not Afraid of Music Anymore
Another album I didn’t hear until far more recently. I wanted to get photos of these guys at this year’s super-rainy Gasparilla Music Festival, but a few hours before Coin’s set, my camera contracted water damage and the screen pooped out, which caused me to bail for the day. Not long after, the guys announced that they’d be back in town to play Jannus Live, with another GMF alum (and hometown artist), Aidan Bissett opening. I didn’t get to shoot it, but I still managed to get a ticket, so it was cool to hear most of the new album live, get a sense of closure, and meet Aidan after the show, who couldn’t have been kinder.
October: Tyler, the Creator – Chromakopia
What can you say about Tyler? He’s a visionary, and I hear he does an amazing show. This is probably his most soulful album to date, and there’s clearly some jazz influence in there as well. Hopefully, the tour behind Chromakopia is half as much of a spectacle as the pics I saw of the Call Me If You Get Lost tour were. (Update, 2025: Fuck you, Tyler for rejecting every media request at these shows. Thanks for shattering mine and my brother’s dreams.)
November: The Cure – Songs of A Lost World
People are out here saying that this is gonna be Robert Smith and friends’ last album together, with its themes of mortality and getting old. It took me a hot minute to get around to this one, and since I still kinda have my whole life ahead of me, I had a hard time relating to this one. I said the same thing about Bruce Springsteen’s Letter to You a few years ago though, so I think it’s gonna grow on me. Especially with my mindset, which is telling me that there will be another Cure tour, which unlike the most recent one, I will not miss for anything.
December: A Complete Unknown OST
Embarassingly enough, I still haven’t seen Tim-Tim portray the only singer-songwriter with a Nobel Prize. But man, the vocal training he got to sound like the Bard must have been superb. Not to mention some of the uber sweet harmonies he shares on here with Monica Barbaro as Joan Baez. I do remember listening to Chalamet’s versions of “Like a Rolling Stone” and “Girl From the North Country” upon their early release though, and the soundtrack as a whole has been giving me a glimmer of hope after a pretty bleak few weeks in both America and my life. Hopefully, the movie will do the same.
Josh Bradley Live 