The two dozen readers of this blog who aren't close personal friends of mine might be surprised, given that this post is only the second time in more than two years I've used the “music” tag, to learn that I am, or at least still consider myself, a music guy. I was a minor fixture of the Seattle scene once, half a lifetime ago—played drums in a punk band (with the guy who has lately piloted Roman in my erstwhile SWN campaign), organized house shows (in a fairly slapdash way), spent years mostly hanging out with musicians and going to several shows a week, and of course, most important of all, had a halfway-encyclopedic knowledge of punk and indie rock, which I labored strenuously to pass off as truly encyclopedic.
Anyway, nearly 20 years later, I learned about Geese from the New Yorker, and the psychic damage of having become so old and out of touch that I discovered the band of the moment in a literary magazine nearly killed me. (I realized later that another of my best friends—also an old Seattle musichead, and the woman behind Sarai in that SWN game—had mentioned Geese to me months earlier, and had recommended Cameron Winter's solo album, but nothing really clicked for me at the time.) Reeling, I scrambled to listen to absolutely everything released in 2025 that seemed like it could possibly appeal to me. I would compose a personal top 10 list! I would become young and hip again, by sheer force of will!
It's February now, and I've listened to at least a hundred of 2025's new releases, so it's probably time to stick a fork in 2025 and start trying to keep up with 2026 in a more natural, sane way. Hey, there's a new Metric album coming! Maybe I was always going to pay attention to new music this year. But I do have a top six for last year, at least, and some honorable mentions. In case anybody out there reading this, also experiencing incipient middle age, needs to crib off my homework.
#6: Tropical Fuck Storm, Fairyland Codex
Of the moment without being didactic or topical in a way that becomes instantly dated; cynical and sinister but warm and inviting at the same time. The general atmosphere of ironic distance and ennui make the occasional moments of sincere emotion, like in the title track and my favorite of the bunch, “Stepping on a Rake,” hit unexpectedly hard. Opens strong with “Irukandji Syndrome,” which really sets the tone for the whole thing. No weak links.
#5: Viagra Boys, viagr aboys
Irreverent and laugh-out-loud funny in places but never unserious, varied but never incohesive, an album that rewards every new listen with newly noticed clever lyrical turns and musical flourishes. It's a little top-heavy, but given that side A (“Man Made of Meat,” “The Bog Body,” “Uno II,” “Pyramid of Health,” “Dirty Boyz,” and “Medicine For Horses”) is just wall-to-wall bangers, how could it not be? The B-side is no slouch either, even if it isn't quite as strong.
#4: The Boojums, s/t
Garage punk recorded at low fidelity but played with unusual virtuosity, and drawing on an eclectic range of influences—I hear a dash of Soundgarden here, some Springsteen there, maybe a bit of the Pogues. You can't miss the nods to Don McLean. Wears those influences lightly, though, and is very much its own thing. Just gathers more and more strength as it goes, with “Football,” “Yellow Lines,” and “Dan's Transmission," all from the B-side, being the biggest hits for me.
#3: The Beths, Straight Line Was a Lie
Earnest and charming, with hyper-specific lyrics about Beth Stokes's lived experience that manage to expand into universally relatable observations about life, health, change, getting older, and all that stuff you never think about in your twenties. The title track is a bop, but “Mosquitoes” and “Mother Pray for Me” are the highlights; the former is one of my favorite tracks of the past few years.
#2: Geese, Getting Killed
#1: Home Front, Watch It Die
Like TFS and (most of) Viagra Boys, Home Front is a later-in-life project for a bunch of veteran musicians, folks who were in hardcore and metal bands mellowing out a little and making some thoughtful post-punk. Like Fairyland Codex (composed by Australians) and viagr aboys (Swedes), a lot of Watch of Die (Canadians, as are the Boojums) is about watching the United States and the ripples that we send into the world with a weather eye. Unlike the other two, though, this is a little less cerebral, less jaundiced, less ironic and detached. Home Front came in with just the right amount of earnestness—about getting older and reflecting on youth and about the decline of the American empire and hope for a better future alike—to meet me exactly where I am right now. Starts with a fitting sample; the intro to the title track is a snippet of dialogue from 1978's Killer of Sheep, a film regarded as one of the greatest of its era but long inaccessible (and never given a general release) because director Charles Burnett couldn't get any of the music rights. “Light Sleeper” might be the best track, but “Watch It Die,” “Eulogy,” “The Vanishing,” and the extremely au courant closer “Empire” are all favorites too. Here's hoping it all comes true.
Honorable mentions:
Samia, Bloodless
Black Eyes, Hostile Design
Pool Kids, Easier Said Than Done
Heartworms, Glutton for Punishment
Saya Gray, SAYA
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