2024×12: My Favourite New Songs This Year

It’s that time of year again when I run down the twelve songs that have stuck with me throughout the year. They’re not the biggest songs of the year, they’re not the most impactful, nor are they necessarily from big cultural moments. They’re just the ones that have stuck with me, and during the rest of December, I’d like to share them with you.

Bookmark this page, as I’ll update it with the entries throughout the month rather than posting for each song.

Who Just Missed Out?

Before the first song, there’s the matter of two ‘nearly’ songs that lost out in the cut, but the format demands twelve, so they had to go. But it seems fair to acknowledge those who missed out on the actual list. Whether that makes this 2024×14 or 2024×12+2 is an exercise for another time.

Daddy Cop, by Zander Hawley.

What was a one-shot joke in a cold open of ‘Look, it’s Nathan Fillion being a cop (as opposed to being a detective, space pirate, or ‘that voice in Halo’), became a meme in the community and was subsequently released as a single – a catchy line that just about stretches to two minutes of an earworm.

(YouTube).

H Into Hurt, by Paul Heaton, ft. Rianne Downey.

Since the days of The Housemartins and The Beautiful South, Paul Heaton has woven some amazingly engaging stories into music. October’s release of ‘The Mighty Several‘ features a dozen more. ‘H Into Hurts‘ sways with a dash of big band and a cheeky look at relationships. It’s familiar territory for Heaton, and it’s difficult not to enjoy this mix of happy chords over a Ken Loach script.

(YouTube).

12. ‘Fanta Sanremo,’ by Naska

Of course, the Sanremo Music Festival has its own theme tune; it’s right there at the top of the show, through the various commercial breaks, and pops up during the five nights of live shows as a musical sting.
I’m not talking about that theme tune.

Instead, I’m talking about the theme tune released this year for Fanta Sanremo. The Fantasy Football-styled game has Sanremo fans buying a team of performers and scoring points throughout the week for the good (their finishing position and official awards gained through the week), the bad (minus points if they fall down the staircase at the back of the stage), and the fun (a five-point bonus if the singer Fiorella is introduced by the comedian Fiorello).

It was called out from the stage by several artists in 2023, and as a result, this year’s Fanta was the biggest yet. To help promote it, they called Nasak to write an official theme.

It’s an infectious slice of power pop that captures the light, effervescent nature of the genre. It offers a shout-it-out-loud chorus. The avalanche of Italian lyrics barely fit around too few notes and never lets up for the 86 seconds of runtime. It’s one of the shortest moments of Sanremo, but it captures the near 23-hour contest perfectly.

Belissimo.

11. ‘Freedom,’ by Hammerfall.

‘There’s something delightfully chonky about the lead track from Hammerfall’s latest album. The Swedish power metal band has been around for more than 30 years; they do one thing very well, and they’ve never felt the need to pursue massive mainstream success. Get on stage, double-pedal the drums, foot on the amplifier, and… chonk-chonk-chonky-chonkchonk away.

Anthemic also comes to mind. They know the audience is up for a bit of penetrating bass and a big woah-woah chorus to fill whatever stadium they occupy that night. The crowd know what to expect from this thirteenth album, and the band do not disappoint.

Keep doing that one thing very well, Hammerfall. This is precisely what I need when I need some driving rock and want to remember a time when I could dive into a mosh pit without a care in the world. I suspect the rest of Hammerfall’s audience feels the same.

10. ‘Ma Non Tutta La Vita,’ by Ricchi E Poveri.

Let’s nip back to the Sanremo Music Festival. As well as offering a chance for new artists to gain a nationwide platform alongside the biggest stars of the day, the Festival also celebrates the legends of Italian music. They’re on the same stage in the same contest; a visible reminder that music is for everyone and everyone has music to offer.

Was it a surprise that Ricchi E Poveri were on the Sanremo 2024 entry list? This was the group’s thirteenth appearance, their first since 1992. Now performing as a duet, there was just as much a sense of anticipation for Brambati and Sotgiu as in previous years.

They both knew they weren’t in the Ariston Theatre to win; they were there to enjoy themselves, to entertain the TV audience, and perhaps to gather a new fanbase among younger viewers. And they delivered.

‘Ma Non Tutta La Vita‘ made full use of the Orchestra, and nothing strayed too far from Ricchi E Poveri’s classic sound; a little bit of pop, a little of disco, a bit more bossa-nova, and a lot of fun. Sure, some of the musical twists and lyrics feel a touch dated, but they were fresh and exciting when Ricchi E Poveri invented them decades ago for Sanremo. So it’s really just welcoming home the music and the musicians.

9. ‘Judge Tenderly Of Me,’ by Anne Fagermo and Dag Erik Oksvold.

This is my comfy oversized jersey of the year, the one I snuggle into so I can forget about the world for a few minutes.

You see, there are no surprises in ‘Judge Tenderly Of Me‘. The opening few bars follow a well-worn chord progression, Dag Erik’s vocals bring to mind countless country numbers from the cassettes my parents listened to when I was young (…think early Glen Campbell). Just when you need Anne’s female counterpoint to arrive… it arrives.

When you think they’re going to duet… they duet. Is the bridge coming in here? Yep. The key change? Boom, were you expecting that? Yes. Yes, I was.

And that’s the point. Nothing, absolutely nothing, feels out of place. It takes a lot to be so perfect when it’s so straightforward. ‘Judge Tenderly‘ is the ideal shape of a song, just like a favourite knitted decades-old jumper that you wrap yourself into to reset and recover from the world.

8. Ulveham, by Gåte

The first time I heard this momentous mix of Norwegian folk, power chords and gothic romance would try to be selected as Norway’s entry to the Eurovision Song Contest, I resigned myself to having another selection song that would stay on my personal playlist and go no further.

Well, that didn’t go as planned, as Gåte won Melodi Grand Prix and flew the flag for Norway in what turned out to be one of the most political Song Contests in its history.

‘Ulveham‘ grabbed me from the first animalistic cry of lead singer Gunnhild Sundli. Then it swirls around, and everything winds itself as if ready to pounce. ‘Ulveham‘ is an exercise in tension; it spends every verse tightening the spring before the drums break the moment, and it wildly spirals out in the chorus. It’s a song of two halves and of one whole.

The time taken in the bridge, when the band holds you in the pocket, is absolutely worth the six short minutes the original offers. While the skill to get this into three minutes for Eurovision is to be commended, the prog in me demands every second of storytelling possible.

7. Doomsday Blues, by Bambie Thug.

The first time I heard this wall of furious emotion and balletic pagan beats would try to be selected as Ireland’s entry to the Eurovision Song Contest, I resigned myself to having another selection song that would stay on my personal playlist and go no further.

Well, that didn’t go as planned either. The clarion cry of #SendTheWitch became #CrownTheWitch, and Bambi Thug was off to Malmo. That journey is best told elsewhere.

At every step. Doomsday Blues found another gear. The clean audio on the radio that hit the aural senses gave way to the first constrained staging in RTE’s Late Late Show studio. That was overtaken as Eurovision previews built up anticipation, and then the absolute ‘smashed it out of the park’ staging in Malmo arrived.

Doomsday Blues is a track that I see. When it plays, there is an indelible link to the images that Bambi Thug created. The music may be at its base, but the visual message is one of the most powerful of the season and the year.

6. Nåla i Veggen, by Bilal Saab & Ida Maria

Let’s start in the Norwegian TV offices of NRK, as producers pitch ‘Her Lukter Det Desk’; “we’re going to send some famous singers and musicians out to sea, and they can go fishing with… er… TV star Bilal Saab? His family have a fishing background!”

It’s a relatively common TV style in the modern landscape, and while it might not push boundaries, it’s nice to have some cosy TV to watch. And in the case of Her Lukter, listen to some music as well.

The opening episode saw “…fearless Ida Maria on a halibut hunt in the roaring ocean depths off Sørøya.” In between those moments, they duetted a Norwegian sea shanty. It’s a long way from 2018’s ‘Scandilove,’ and even further away from 2008’s ‘I Like You So Much Better When You’re Naked,’ yet it feels just as honest as Maria’s previous big songs.

There’s sway, there’s rhythm, and I can’t help rocking along with a smile on my face. Cosy TV makes for Cosy Music, who would have thought….

5. Makes Me Violent, by Bob Vylan

After five long years, I’ve finally seen Bob Vylan live.

That’s something I’ve wanted since the duo featured on my first x20 list in 2020. Like many, that first encounter was the white-hot punk anger of ‘We Live Here‘ that was both admired by every music executive in the UK, and shunned by every music executive in the UK as they backed away from the sharp-edged politics of living in the UK that Bobby and Bobbie’s music represented.

Years later, the white-hot fury is still there, but ‘Makes Me Violent’ is much more subtle in how it presents the issues. There’s surgical precision in making sure the message is heard. That message of frustration at the social divide and how the masses are used by the wealthy rang true at the start of the year, and even with a change of government halfway through 2024, nothing has changed as the year ends.

I hope there is a time when Bobby and Bobbie Vylan can sing sweet songs of love and peace, but until then, they need to keep shouting truth to power. And I’ll keep supporting them.

4. Bin Boy, by Peter Bibby.

I’ll let you in on a little secret. Peter Bibby’s opus to domesticity may be fifth on the published list, but it’s last on my 2024×12 playlist because it’s a perfect downbeat closer.

‘Bin Boy‘ captures a sense of ennui like nothing else I have heard this year. The drudgery of life and the constant reminders that life just repeats ad nauseam are all here. The notes remain the same, and the choral choir lurking at the edge of your hearing is little more than disguised mundanity.

Melodies and music are, by their nature, cyclical, much like life. Bibby takes that principle and weaves it around the story like the troubadours of old. There is a depth on show that some of the greatest songwriters never reach in decades of creativity.

Or it’s a tongue-in-cheek folk song from the point of view of an anthropomorphised rubbish bin.

Your call.

3. Straight To Hell, by Butch Walker, Elizabeth Cook, and Jeff Sullivan.

You can hide a lot of tragedy by tucking it under a honky-tonk Country and Western rhythm.

‘Straight To Hell’ is a brutal slice of a dysfunctional god-fearing family, a single mother trying to keep everything together, and an almost tragic teenage relationship… elements that you might not pick up on the first time through the song.

This is a glorious tonal car crash. I don’t mean it sounds terrible, I mean the light tone of the melody, contrasting with the darker tones of the lyrics. That’s complemented by the ease which Walker and Cook switch from an almost mellow Gene Autry vibe to the rough anger that lights up the chorus.

There’s far more fire and brimstone in this version compared to the more Kevin Kinney’s Drivin’ n’ Cryin’ original. And I think that’s why this clicked with me so much. The chorus is tailor-made for a singalong; “I’m going straight to hell” as an earworm has cropped up countless times since my first listen.

The peaks are higher, the despair is greater, and the emotions are turned up to eleven. This is country and western with a hard edge.

2. I’m Coming Home, by Nina Nesbitt

Nina Nesbitt has not had a simple music career, yet her fourth album is the most accomplished and honest in all those years. ‘Mountain Music’ turns away from pop sensibilities and toward an almost folk vibe as Nesbitt returns, both physically and metaphorically, to Scotland.

For me, ‘I’m Coming Home’ is the standout track in an album full of standout tracks. Nesbitt has commented that this track is “inspired by Bruce Springsteen”, and it shows. I just need to run this back-to-back with ‘Thunder Road’ and the same themes, the same emotional heft, and the same feelings of growing to love an idea of home are all here.

The full album is a rich and layered exploration of home, and while ‘I’m Coming Home’ is not the title track, it is the thematic lead. For me, it’s the joy in the vocals as she hits the chorus tumbling down a hillside to keep up with the music and lyrics, and loving every moment, that keeps me coming back.

1. Ratatata, by Babymetal and Electric Callboy.

The first few seconds were filled with curiosity. The next few seconds were filled with a prayer (likely to Lemmy) that they wouldn’t spoil what could be something special. The last few seconds were spent realising that Ratatata was something special, which could stand up to repeated listenings, and that was everything I wanted.

It went straight in at Number One for 2024×12, and nothing else came close.

Let’s go through my catnip.

First up, it’s a genre smash. Two, admittedly quite close, styles of music, far enough apart to create a contrast and a chance to move between two sounds and two styles, yet managing to feel like something that belonged together.

Then you have the driving bassline. I want to feel my music in the low register and focus on the beats and rhythm rather than the melody.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, it never stays steady or too predictable. When the option to do some classic pop structure and return to the verse is available, it’s not taken. There’s a fine line to this style. It’s not too far from the main line to feel out of place, but it’s close enough to remain the same song. It’s a balancing act many attempt, but few have unlocked this achievement with such skill.

Ratatata is anticipation and surprise: it’s kawaii and electrocore, it’s dance and rock, it’s innocence and decadence, it’s a musical assault, and you can’t do anything but embrace it.

(Why 2024×12? Because started out as song, per month, per year, and that looks and sounds a bit like 20×2).