Welcome

Happy end of 2018.  This is my traditional albums of the year list (every year since 2000!). 


Below you'll find my top 20 full-length original studio albums, in reverse order.  Enjoy.

Some introductory musings on the way I consume music…


But first...

As a kid I had tapes, and listened to my parents’ vinyl.  At some point in the early 90s, I began voraciously buying CDs, and by the time I began doing these album of the year lists in the year 2000 I had hundreds of them.  In 2012, I sold all my (by then, thousands of) CDs and started buying Mp3s. 

The summer of 2018 saw me finally making the next switch, from buying digital downloads to using a streaming service.  Financially, it had just become untenable to spend £10 on one album, when a joint account with my wife would give me access to virtually everything for £7 a month.  But this change has had an interesting impact on my list.  In the second half of 2018 I was able to listen to a far greater number of eligible records, which expanded the ‘field’ of contenders significantly, and opened the door to me experiencing and enjoying weirder and more varied artists; at the same time, freed from the need to ‘get my money’s worth’ with repeated plays, and now spreading my time across so many more albums (dipping in as I wanted), fewer records than in previous years broke through into regular rotation and carved out a meaningful place in my heart.  On the one hand, at least 3 of my 2018 list entries are records that I never would have taken a chance on buying, but which I now love.  On the other hand, it’s notable that of my final 2018 list, a disproportionate number of ‘placing’ albums came out during the first half of the year, when I was still buying them outright: perhaps they just were better, but I suspect it’s in part because I felt financially obliged to give them more chances to impress.

It’ll be interesting to see how this list shapes up in 2019, when everything I listen to will be streamed.  My current sense is that streaming is a double-edged sword, but it’s hard to begrudge the fact that I now spend less money to listen to more music.  It all makes me feel old, and I’m not yet sure how to process this unlimited access, or strike a good balance between trying as much as I can while giving records enough opportunity to get the most from them.  I’m sure I’ll get used to it, though, just like I got over not having a physical booklet to flip through every time I got a new CD.  Ultimately, in the words of mighty rock titans Clutch: ‘You can’t stop.  You can’t stop progress.’

Anyway, enough of this  on with the list for 2018!

20. COURTNEY BARNETT – Tell Me How You Really Feel

First up this year is Courtney Barnett’s sophomore album. While it’s only solo album #2, it feels like Barnett’s been around for some while: that ridiculous ‘new Bob Dylan’ hype was half a decade ago, and – as well as her debut album – she now also has a stellar ep and a (disappointing) collaborative album with Kurt Vile under her belt. Her debut Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit came an impressive 2nd on this list in 2015. Tell Me How You Really Feel maintains much of what made that first record great, and in a number of ways is the more developed and mature album. ‘City Looks Pretty’ is a track of twisting complexity, and – given that was the lead single – it says a lot about the sort of indie record Barnett has made here. Lyrically, she’s as idiosyncratic as ever, although her writing for this album is definitely less whimsical and more melancholic. Such are the times in which we live, I guess. While Tell Me How You Really Feel never quite connected with me to the same extent as did Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit (I’m not entirely sure why), objectively it’s just as good, if not better, and, subjectively, I’ve still thoroughly enjoyed it.

sample track: Nameless, Faceless

19. ORANGE GOBLIN – The Wolf Bites Back


British stoner rock gods Orange Goblin have been a big favourite of mine for many years, and I’ll always listen to any new album they put out. Equally, since their late 90s/early 2000s heyday, there have been some major swings in quality. Of their previous three albums, Healing Through Fire was a massive disappointment in 2007 and came nowhere near getting a place on this list; the brilliant A Eulogy for the Damned then stormed to a 5th place ranking in 2012; whereas 2014’s forgettable Back from the Abyss probably could have stayed at the abyss and nobody would have noticed (again, it didn’t come close to troubling my list that year). Fairly obviously, a ranking of 19th for The Wolf Bites Back shows it falls somewhere in the middle of the Goblin’s topsy-turvy recent output. Not as consistent or original as A Eulogy for the Damned (and not a patch on their career best material, such as 2002’s Coup de Grace), The Wolf Bites Back nonetheless again rights the ship and corrects Back from the Abyss’ cardinal sin of being boring. The riffs here are chunky, urgent and vital. This time the Goblin have decided to mix both the thrashy edge of stoner (‘Renegade’) with the doom side (‘Swords of Fire’), and it’s a blend that suits.  One for existing Goblin fans only, I’d say: for anyone looking to dip a toe in this (stoner) rock pool for the first time, check out Coup de Grace instead.


sample track: Renegade

18. FATIMA DUNN – Birds and Bones

Next up is the latest work by cello-wielding Swiss experimentalist – and ‘one woman orchestra’ – Fatima Dunn. Birds and Bones is subtle, gentle and soothing, but it also hints at deeper menace and weirdness throughout. At times this record is so bare it feels fragile, with the likes of (the truly beautiful) ‘Ebb and Flow’ being about as stripped down as it gets: simply cello and vocals. Elsewhere, things are a little more urgent (see ‘So Free’), and/or complex (the vocal gymnastics of ‘Dive into the Light’ are weird but good). Dunn’s decision to sing in a mixture of English and German across the album adds something different, and fits well with a musical approach that perhaps is best described as ‘minimalist experimentation’. Occasionally the experiment backfires, with a few tracks risking disappearing up themselves: the wind-chime rattle of ‘Les Vaches d’Abel’, for example, takes things to the very edge of self-indulgence. Overall, though, this is unique, interesting record by a very talented artist. 


sample track: Ebb and Flow

17. THE MESSTHETICS – The Messthetics

This is the debut album of a new three-piece comprised of some industry stalwarts: Joe Lally and Brendan Canty (otherwise known as Fugazi’s rhythm section) along with experimental guitarist Anthony Pirog. It’s hard to describe The Messthetics: the best I’ve come up with is ‘instrumental post-hardcore progressive math rock’. Good luck unpicking that… I think the Fugazi connection probably gives some insights as to what to expect, and other touchstones might be ‘Foals at their least commercial (without vocals)’, or ‘less aggressively experimental Battles’. Although at times this also detours into much stranger dreamscapes (see ‘Radiation Fog’, and ‘The Inner Ocean’, the latter of which is very Mogwai). For the most part, however, it’s Pirog’s dextrous, precise guitar that’s front and centre here, propelling some very ‘angular’ experimental rock. See the persistent ‘Quantum Path’ or the Cave In style ‘Crowds and Power’ for exemplars.

sample track: Quantum Path

16. BOY AZOOGA – 1, 2, Kung Fu!

There are two tracks on Boy Azooga’s debut – ‘Loner Boogie’ and ‘Face behind her Cigarette’ – that are absolutely outstanding. They are two of my very favourite tracks of the year, and had the whole of the record been of their standard, 1, 2, Kung Fu! would have been challenging at the top of this year’s list. As it is, this is a record that dips in quality, but that’s partly because it reaches such heights at times, and it must be said that it never dips that low. There’s much fun to be had throughout, across a range of genres and moods. Disco-rock, Daft Punk style electro-indie, some (mid-career Blur) power-indie and chill-out harmonising are all present and arranged in a way that feels like they’re part of a coherent whole, rather than being a hodgepodge. Hard to pigeonhole (which is always good), consistently fun and with flashes of absolute genius. It’s a debut, so label under ‘significant potential’.

15. BAT FANGS – Bat Fangs


Bat Fangs’ debut will give you a classic rock ‘n’ roll ass-kickin’. Guaranteed. If that sounds appealing, then you’ll find it easy to love this short, sharp little record; if not, then, to be honest, there’s very little else to find here. This is high-quality DC riot grrrl punk, following in the grand tradition of the likes of Bikini Kill and (early) Sleater-Kinney. Although there are flashes of other things too: the Misfits come to mind, both musically and because of a shared use of classic horror iconography. This perhaps isn’t a record to change anyone’s world, but it has consistently strong song-writing, and it benefits from not overdoing things. All very ‘less is more’ (9 songs in 25 minutes – no fat on those bones). When I started putting the list together this year I was a little surprised this made it on, let alone made it into the top 15. But it’s a huge amount of fun, and so I’ve played it lots. Simple as that.

sample track: Turn it Up

14. SPRING KING – A Better Life


Spring King’s debut album, Tell Me If You Like To, came in at #6 on my list in 2016. This sophomore effort impressively maintains the high standards set by that record, and occasionally surpasses them. A Better Life suffers only because it came second, and perhaps is not different enough from their very strong debut. The template’s still high-octane garage rock, and A Better Life does feel like a natural continuation of Tell Me If You Like To, but getting that different enough/similar enough balance right always makes that second album hard… Taken in isolation, there’s a huge amount to love on album 2. Following a little jazzy intro, first track proper ‘Animal’ rockets along very nicely thank you, as does ‘The Hum’ (a joy). ‘No More’ hits all the right shouty peaks too. And there are some deviations from the template: ‘Echo Chamber’ feels like (recent era) Kasabian, and ‘Us vs Them’ has a 90s indie-pop vibe (like an angry Pulp or something). As so often seems to be the case for bands after the release of their second album, my sense for Spring King is that this is make or break time: album 2 is strong, and has some seeds of evolution, but ultimately feels like a fairly safe follow up. Evolve further with album 3 and I might be listening to album 8 many years from now; more of the same and I’ll probably have had my fill. For now, though, A Better Life is well worth your time.

sample track: Animal

13. CAROLINE ROSE – LONER

At its core, LONER is a pop album, and on first few listens, you’ll probably just get the sense that Caroline Rose wants you to dance and be happy. And that’s certainly a possible way of approaching this record, because musically it’s got all the hooks and bounce you’ll need. But dig a little deeper and you’ll find there’s lots of other stuff going on. Lyrics that examine misogyny, financial destitution/doing horrible things for money, social disillusionment, physical and psychological pain and – more than once – death, don’t fit neatly with the outwardly chirpy musical tone. More than that, a few more listens reveal that the music too has some darker edges than first appears. ‘Money’, for example, seems initially to be a little B52s surf-rider, but its chorus has some nasty background sirens and trashy guitars that undercut its new wave sheen. Album-best track ‘Bikini’ showcases the record well: lyrically it’s about the objectification of women, musically it’s (mostly) a guitar-pop ditty, but with a synth backdrop that makes it all feel a little uneasy. Impressively self-assured pop subversion.

sample track: Bikini 

12. TONY MOLINA – Kill the Lights

Tony Molina’s latest record continues his pathological commitment to brevity: only one track on Kill the Lights (which sounds – entirely inappropriately – like a Metallica album name) makes it passed the 2 minute mark. But, unlike some of Molina’s earlier work, this never feels rushed or uncomfortably sparse. Kill the Lights is an exercise in distilling song-writing down to its most fundamental parts, and then showing them off (once – difficult to repeat choruses in 90 second songs). Key musical reference points (to my ears anyway) are late-career Elliot Smith, early (specifically Blue album) Weezer and Rubber Soul-era Beatles. There’s 60s rock, folk-prog and 90s guitar pop. All appearing very briefly. Some tracks fade away, others just end abruptly. No time to get bored, and there’s something refreshing about getting to the good stuff and then moving straight on. But the shortness of the tracks can also be a little frustrating on occasion, and repeated listens are essential (in case you blinked). Overall, though, this is an album that has no dip in quality at any stage: and you can’t ask for much more than that. Short not cursory.

sample track: Nothing I Can Say

11. THERAPY? – CLEAVE

Still one of my very favourite bands after all these years, any new Therapy? album is pretty much guaranteed a spot on my list – the question is simply one of whereabouts. It’s true that it’s been well over a decade since Therapy? made a bone fide masterpiece, but they’ve never phoned it in either, and there’s always much to enjoy on every record. CLEAVE – album number 14 (I think, depending on exactly how you count them)continues the recent trend, in that it is consistently excellent but also doesn’t get especially close to the astronomically high standards they set in the 1990s. But it does recall some of that 90s work more than the rest of their recent output. CLEAVE is self-consciously a bit of a throwback, particularly to their 1994 breakthrough album Troublegum. First off, 24 years on, they’ve rehired Chris Sheldon, who produced Troublegum. But more than that, the songs have a similar tone and shape to those on that masterpiece, including lyrically. It’s great to have this particular incarnation of Therapy? back, and, of their recent work, this definitely feels the most ‘them’. At the same time, part of their longstanding appeal for me is their continued chameleon-like tendencies. So I have some mixed feelings about this record, but, as usual, overall I’ve loved it.

sample track: Callow

10. THE DECEMBERISTS – I’ll Be Your Girl

This is the strongest Decemberists album in a while. It perhaps isn’t quite as unremittingly wonderful as their mid/late 2000s work (The Crane Wife; The Hazards of Love), but I’ll Be Your Girl manages to capture their trademark mix of innovation and sing-along rather better (and more consistently) than their last couple of albums did. The Decemberists are always instantly recognisable (thanks particularly to Colin Meloy’s none-more-distinctive voice and Jenny Conlee’s accordion and unique keyboard stylings), and all their work has similarly epic lyrical aspects, drawn from mythology and historical whimsy. However, with each album they approach things in a different way to the last. The heavy (almost classic) rock concept album of The Hazards of Love, for example, is musically worlds away from the concise, 80s-tinged retro-folk of I’ll Be Your Girl. This still has some of their trademark melancholy, but is overall more upbeat, musically at least, with a new synth sheen in places, patches of driven 80s bass, and notably catchy choruses. There are tracks that have the scope and scale that mean they could sit comfortably on The Crane Wife (‘Rusalka, Rusalka/The Wild Rushes’), but for the most part this is more targeted and chorus-focused stuff. Easy to access and love.

sample track: Severed

9. CLUTCH – Book of Bad Decisions

As with Therapy?, if there’s a new Clutch album out in any given year, it’s likely to find its way on to this list. On album 12 (a bastard’s dozen?), Clutch deliver what they always deliver: ridiculous lyrics and wonderful riffs. For the most part, this is, once again, Clutch being Clutch. I’d usually count such commitment to non-evolution as a major negative, but I hope Clutch never change. It’s a delight to gobble up some more of what they serve every couple of years. Of course, that’s not to say Book of Bad Decisions doesn’t have its own personality amongst their back catalogue. For a start there’s a pervading Trump-era anxiety and rage that sets it apart: see ‘Weird Times’ and, especially, ‘How to Shake Hands’ (‘Hot damn! The democratic process, what a time to be alive!’). There also are a few interesting (for Clutch, unusual) musical flourishes, like a bit of brass here and there (see the best track on show here, In Walks Barbarella). Nice. In terms of its place amongst their wider output, this is only mid-level Clutch, I suppose, but for me that’s still high praise. Book of Bad Decisions won’t convert anyone, but if awesomely awesome pie is your thing, Clutch are offering yet another slice.

sample track: In Walks Barbarella

8. SNOW PATROL – Wildness

I always have the same relationship with Snow Patrol: they release a new album, I think ‘I’ve had enough of them, not bothered’, finally listen to it anyway and then fall in love with it. Forget, repeat. This process was particularly easy this time because it’s been a full 7 years since their last record, 2011’s Fallen Empires. Plenty of time to forget how much I like them. My switch to using a streaming service gave Wildness a chance, because I was able to try without having to buy. Turns out it’s another wonderful record. Why am I always surprised that Snow Patrol are good? Often lumped in with the likes of Coldplay (including by me), they deserve better. The general critical wisdom is that Wildness is a triumphant return after the disappointing Fallen Empires and subsequent hiatus. For me, Fallen Empires is perhaps their best record (although, again, I had to go back to remind myself that I liked it so much…), so I don’t quite subscribe to that narrative. Lyrically, Wildness doesn’t feel like a triumphant return either: it isn’t about rebirth/rejuvenation or self-congratulation. The key themes instead are darkness and self-doubt. Musically too, this isn’t a bells and whistles bombastic return, it’s a very restrained record. The stark voice-and-piano of ‘What If This is All the Love You Ever Get?’ opts not to burst into strings and soaring harmonises in the way they may have done in the past, and is all the better for it (especially given its melancholic lyrical sentiment). The slow-build of album opener ‘Life on Earth’ is another highlight, and another exercise in effective simplicity and restraint. Great stuff all round. I just have to try to remember that I like them when they next release something…

sample track: Life on Earth

7. LUCY DACUS – Historian


The second record by Richmond, Virginia’s Lucy Dacus is fantastic. The indie-rock singer-songwriter really spreads her wings here, and the results are a mix of the haunting and the powerful. Album opener ‘Night Shift’ is a 6-minute microcosm of the wider album: it begins with soft acoustic lamentations and brutally honest heart-pouring (‘the first time I tasted somebody else’s spit/I had a coughing fit’) and ends with musical roughage and vocal howls. An amazing start. The album only grows from there: for example, ‘The Shell’ approaches 70s prog territory, while ‘Yours & Mine’ evokes the miseraballads of early-Decemberists. Historian is an album of notable scope and weight. It features, albeit in moderation, some really quite dense arrangements of strings and horns, but these are all about servicing the most basic elements of the song in question. For all its grand scale and ambition, Historian ultimately excels because of its root melodies, hummable choruses and compelling storytelling. At its core, this remains the work of an outstanding singer-songwriter, but it has been augmented in a way that lifts it well above the crowd. Not sure how this only made 7th place. Superb.

sample track: Night Shift

6. THE VOIDZ – Virtue

The first I heard of The Voidz (that ‘z’ still makes me angry – grow up) was the complete mauling this, their second record, received in The Guardian in April. Phil Mongredien’s scathing 1* review included the following statements: ‘utterly incoherent’, ‘wildly self-indulgent’ and ‘precious little worth hearing here’. Mongredien’s biggest complaint, though, seemed to be that The Voidz sounded nothing like mainman Julian Casablanca’s ‘other’ band, The Strokes. Thing is, I never liked The Strokes at all, so that comment made me go and listen to this. Mongredien’s got one thing right, this is nothing like The Strokes. Cause it’s really good. Casablanca has called this project ‘futuristic prison jazz’, and that insufferably pretentious self-description is nonetheless as good as any. This record is hard to pin down. Virtue is an always interesting polymorph: Daft Punk expero-pop on ‘Permanent High School’ or ‘Pink Ocean’ gives way to agit-punk on ‘Black Hole’, and then ruminative acoustic heartache on ‘Think Before You Drink’. It’s a wildly eclectic record (although not incoherent, at least to my ears); at times quite ‘out there’, yes, but crucially never, ever dull. Not everything works: album closer ‘Pointlessness’ is an overly drawn out mourn-ballad, for example – but even then it’s trying something interesting and a bit different. There’s so much here, and so much of it is so great, that even with a few misfires and things that aren’t to my personal taste, this is well worthy of its 6th place finish.

sample track: QYURRYUS

5. AWOOGA – Conduit


How about some prog-sludge? Assuming that’s even a thing. After some initial hype and strong word-of-mouth I’d got hold of the ep that AWOOGA released in 2016 – Alpha – and… wasn’t all that impressed. I’m therefore not quite sure what made me bother subsequently to investigate their debut album when it appeared this spring. But I’m so glad I did, because it is really excellent (was that ep just dodgy offcuts, or have they really got this much better in 24 months?). Conduit is some unholy mix of doom-sludge metal and euphoric space-rock, with everything from Alice in Chains, Muse, Tool, Amplifier and Hand of God all chucked in. Sheffield’s AWOOGA (NB: don’t even think about writing it using any lowercase characters!) have managed a neat trick here, straddling some seriously heavy, rumbling metal and wild, celestial operatic-prog. Good luck to the people who work at record stores and streaming services who might be trying to categorise this. Want your head whacked in with a riff bigger than a cliff? No worries, ‘Tabula Rasa’ will bash ya good. Want to float to the stars? Sure: ‘Blue Rose’ will send you there on a column of light (although it’ll also kick you occasionally during the journey). This is fantastic stuff, somehow both bone crushing and ethereal. More please.

sample track: Temporal

4. GOAT GIRL – Goat Girl

An exceptional debut from South London’s Goat Girl. This is a grimy, grubby record, which has elements of punk and grunge, but it also slows things down to find a sort of askew DIY shoegaze, specifically for those with dirt on their shoes. This feels like an album that should be played in a sweaty Camden bar, but at the same time there are string flourishes and harmonies that would be more at home in a theatre. Lyrically, it deals with some serious stuff: ‘Burn at the Stake’ is a vitriolic attack on the Tories and the DUP (and I mean really vitriolic), while ‘Creep’ is about a guy who films a woman on the train without her consent, and is delivered with the anger of what feels like personal experience (‘I want to smash your head in’). Goat Girl is an album of lyrical (and sometimes musical) ugliness (e.g., ‘Country Sleaze’ = ‘I’m disgusting, I’m a shame to this so-called human race’ + the most jagged of jagged guitars). But it’s also beautiful (see ‘Lay Down’, which has a Nirvana: Unplugged vibe to it) and occasionally downright bouncy (see ‘Cracker Drool’ or ‘The Man’ – the latter perhaps being the best way in to the album, while not necessarily being the album at its best). Goat Girl have a unique voice, and – on what doesn’t feel at all like a debut record – serve up self-assured, but also unashamedly damaged, material for the Brexit/#metoo/Trump world.

sample track: The Man

3. LET’S EAT GRANDMA – I’m All Ears

It is officially impossible to talk about Let’s Eat Grandma without pointing out how young they are (every review, article, etc does it) so I’ll get that out the way. The duo – Rosa Walton and Jenny Hollingworth – are both still in their teens (born at the dawn of the millennium: gulp), and this is already their second album. So… young. The things is, while Let’s Eat Grandma’s first record, 2016’s I, Gemini, felt like an album that was good given that it was made by two 16 year olds (it had promise but was all glitz, twee and unfiltered sandpit-playing), I’m All Ears is just a fantastic album entirely irrespective of the age of its authors. An astronomical leap forward, this record seamlessly melds synthpop, indie rock, psych-prog and dance. Walton and Hollingworth have ended up with something great. The shuddering tech-doom of discordant instrumental opener ‘Whitewater’ sounds like a Nine Inch Nails intro, track two ‘Hot Pink’ is a greasy, evil pop song, while track three ‘It’s Not Just Me’ is pure candyfloss pop. And that’s all just in the first three songs. Elsewhere, we get pizzicato musings on ‘Missed Call (1)’, art guitar jangles on ‘Cool & Collected’, and an 11-minute indie-prog epic, ‘Donnie Darko’, to close the album. This record heralds the arrival of two major new talents, and there is so much scope for more given the range of things they’ve shown they can turn their hands to here. The first absolutely essential album on this year’s list.

sample track: Donnie Darko

2. A PERFECT CIRCLE – Eat the Elephant


The return of an old favourite, with an album that came extremely close to topping this list. APC released two fantastic records at the turn of the century: Mer de Noms (1999) and Thirteenth Step (2003). Aside from a subsequent covers album in 2004 and a bit of touring, that was it: two records (at least, proper ones), and done. While I loved them at the time, I didn’t expect all that much from this comeback: I’m mean, how many bands produce their best work after a 15 year hiatus? Eat the Elephant is controversial amongst APC fans, and divided critics. ‘Too commercial’, ‘not heavy enough’, ‘not a metal album’ have all been common complaints I’ve heard. And there’s truth in all of them: the thing is, they’re all pluses. On its face, this record is more mainstream, and it’s certainly not especially heavy or, indeed, a metal album at all (meaning that album cover image is notably incongruous). But it is a record with far more variety and depth than anything they’ve done before, and the fact that it has some hooks isn’t a bad thing. Eat the Elephant’s comparative palatability doesn’t diminish the (significant amount of) weirdness bubbling away under the surface. This weirdness emerges both musically (the off-key ‘The Contrarian’, the dark piano of ‘DLB’, or the blackboard-scratch guitar of ‘Hourglass’ all belie this being ‘mainstream’) and lyrically, with themes of religious, political and social disintegration underpinning everything. At times really catchy – especially on the likes of the album best ‘So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish’ – but always subversive and strange. This is an album of dark, twisted ballads, not rock songs. Completely unexpectedly, for me this is their best ever work.


1. BOSS KELOID – Melted on the Inch

What’s that at the very summit of this year’s list? More prog-sludge? This is a gargantuan record, which I’ve played consistently since spring. On their third album, Wigan’s Boss Keloid have hit on something very special indeed. To say they’ve transcended their stoner rock roots would be putting it mildly: Melted on the Inch takes an unthinkably huge leap forward, with the band entering a world of possibility. The core sound is now heavier than traditional stoner rock, moving into sludge metal. But this is way more than just a sludge album. It’s an album that pushes the creative limits well beyond 99% of heavy music.

Melted on the Inch is packed full of weird time changes, unexpected turns into mellow progressive rock (think High on Fire getting bored mid-song and handing over to Emerson, Lake and Palmer), vocals that shift from seductive to barked (and back), and even occasional use of what sounds suspiciously like a Hammond organ (I mean, what sludge metal band uses a Hammond?). There are obvious comparisons to AWOOGA’s debut album here: both are unique progressive metal records that came out of nowhere and wowed me in 2018 – but where AWOOGA retain some of the floaty space-rock qualities of many less heavy prog-rock bands, Boss Keloid make music that’s much more rooted in the dirt. This is Picasso painting in a mud-pit. Heavy as hell, grimy, vast, complex and – above all else – unexpected (even after many, many listens), this is an absolute must for anyone who likes intelligent heavy music.

sample track: Chronosiam

Tracks of the Year


The first of two extra lists, my top 10 songs of the year:


1. So Long, and Thanks for all the Fish – A Perfect Circle

2. Face behind Her Cigarette – Boy Azooga

3. Loner Boogie – Boy Azooga

4. Donnie Darko – Let’s Eat Grandma

5. Chronosiam – Boss Keloid

6. Bikini – Caroline Rose

7. Jromalih – Boss Keloid

8. In Walks Barabarella – Clutch

9. Play – Dave Grohl

10. Disillusioned – A Perfect Circle

Films of the Year


The second bonus/extra list: my top 20 films of the year.

These are films that were first released (in cinemas or on streaming services) in 2018 in the UK (NB: some of them came out in late 2017 in the US or other markets).

20.
Mission Impossible: Fallout
Lots to enjoy in the latest instalment, particularly a number of the action sequences (and the extent to which so many of those are practical – you still can tell).  But the hype that this is the best of the series (nope, still MI:3), or even that it is one of the best action movies ever (really?) was all bit overblown.  Extremely fun but fairly forgettable.


19.
Mute
Duncan Jones’ future neo-noir labour of love is definitely flawed, but it also puts that Warcraft debacle firmly behind him, has a number of excellent moments and a standout performance from Justin Theroux.


18.
Incredibles 2
Maybe not quite as much fun as the original – though that’d be a big ask – but this is another excellent Pixar sequel that manages to hold on to what made its predecessor great while mixing things up enough to keep the formula fresh. Jack-Jack needs a spin off.


17.
All the Money in the World
Looking past all that de-Spaceying furore, this is an effective, taut thriller built on character dynamics and screenwriting, rather than action or flashy direction. Ridley Scott at his most restrained, this is his best for a while.


16.
Black Panther
I’ve watched it twice – a good sign – and found much to love (the Busan car chase sequence!), but I also think it was overrated, at least in the context of the wider MCU, with an uneven second half and so-so climax.


15.
Downsizing
Thoughtful sci-fi with allegorical threads touching on greed and oppression. Matt Damon is a surprisingly good everyman. Though Christoph Waltz should cut it out already.


14.
Hold the Dark
Perhaps not Jeremy Saulnier’s finest work, but weird and unsettling, with slow build surprises in the moody wilderness. Not even close to the wolf-hunter movie that the promotional stuff made it look like it was going to be. Jeffrey Wright excellent, as ever.


13.
Cargo
A wonderful zombie film, which prioritises the brains of its audience over the brains its zombie are trying to eat. Like all the best zombie movies, much of it examines how awful living people are, although there’s also significantly more hope and humanity here than is often found in the genre. Includes one of the performances of the year from Martin Freeman.


12.
Coco
Mexican Day of the Dead afterlife fun, with a particular thematic focus on the importance of music. Another excellent Pixar offering, and the second one to make this list: funny, sweet and deep. Not up there with the very best Pixar, but still great, and a nice reminder that they don’t just do sequels.


11.
Outlaw King
The early rebellions of Robert the Bruce are effectively realised but never glamorised in David Mackenzie’s grimy historical epic. Easily dismissed as a ‘modern Braveheart’, this is actually a very different film that approaches its historical subject matter with notable reverence. Sometimes intimate, sometimes mud and blood on a grand scale.


10.
Avengers: Infinity War
Almost too much going on for its own good, but still just about managing to keep things balanced and have the right degree of focus, Marvel’s latest attempt to conquer all is lots of fun. The Spidey/Iron Man in space thread is the best. And that shocking finger click will become a movie reference staple in years to come.


9.
Phantom Thread
My expectations were extremely high here, and once you stop trying to compare it to There Will be Blood, this is a remarkable character study of two damaged, co-dependent people, with dressmaking and nothing ever really happening (in a good way). Low key but made with absolute precision, this sticks with you.


8.
22 July
After the disappointing Jason Bourne, it’s great that Paul Greengrass’ next film – this wonderfully made and acted exploration of the aftermath (personal and social) of real-life tragedy – is such a strong return to form. It never quite recaptures the frenzy of the first third, but that’s kind of the point: tragedies leave a long tail of harm that stretch well after they’re ‘over’.


7.
Darkest Hour
Gary Oldman’s performance as Winston Churchill is so outstanding that it is possible to see Darkest Hour as a bit one trick pony, just a showcase for its lead’s acting prowess. But that wouldn’t be fair: the screenplay is also fantastic, as are the supporting cast. The wise ‘snapshot’ in time approach makes this an intimate and focused biopic.


6.
Apostle
Billed as horror, but actually quite a lot more than that. Unsettling, brutal and mysterious, with great performances (Michael Sheen – yes please) and, well, some horror, this twisted low-budget offering owes much to 70s classics like The Wicker Man or The Devils.


5.
Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri
Emotional pain runs through every fibre of this wonderful film, even when its laugh out loud funny. Frances McDormand and Sam Rockwell got all the plaudits, but for me it was Woody Harrelson’s decent but flawed (and tragically unwell) police chief who stole it. I hated In Bruges, and wasn’t much keen on Seven Psychopaths either, so getting material of this quality from Martin McDonagh is a revelation.


4.
Solo: A Star Wars Story
Neither as bad as I’d feared (directorial merry-go-rounds; isn’t ‘young Han Solo’ just a description of the guy in the original trilogy?), nor as great as I’d hoped (it is a Star Wars movie, after all). It’s my least favourite of the four post-Disney-purchase films so far, but that doesn’t mean it’s anything but enjoyable. Much to love, particularly the early days of the Han/Chewie bromance and a movie-stealing Donald Glover nailing Lando. Great to be mauled by that late reveal too.


3.
A Quiet Place
Horror of the year, where simplicity and slow build tension are king, but with much more to say than it seems on its face. Emily Blunt is fantastic as always, but this is John Krasinski’s film in more ways than one. Impressive in all respects, let’s hope the upcoming sequel manages to maintain this high standard.


2.
The Shape of Water
Del Toro’s worthy Oscar Best Picture winner is beautifully weird, romantic and thrilling. Easily his best work since Pan’s Labyrinth, it all clicks (that score, Sally Hawkins’ outstanding performance, the seamless blend of practical and CG effects). The best mute cleaning lady/disgusting frog-man romance movie you’ll ever see.


1.
Hostiles
An amazing western, that charts loss and hardship at the very edge of the civilized world, with both the colonialists and the Native Americans painted from a palate of many colours: there’s atrocity and humanity from all involved. Christian Bale doing his best work since The Machinist, Rosamund Pike subtly charting the process of recovery from unimaginable grief: this is brilliant on the small, character-led scale. But it’s also sweeping and thematically grand.



NB: the best movie I actually watched in 2018 isn’t eligible for this list, as it came out in the UK in 2017: Luca Guadagnino’s exceptional love story, Call Me by Your Name.


Previous Years’ Lists

For those who might want to venture into the archive...


2015
2014
2013
2012
2011
2010
2009
2008
2007
2006
2005
2004 (added online in 2014)
2000-2003 (added online in 2014)