Albums and Books of the Year
Or my personal selections, anyway.
I started writing album reviews as a hobby in 2010. Over the next several years, I would go from writing on a free Blogger.com blog to creating a pretty high-caliber website where, along with some friends, we published multiple album reviews a week in both articles and podcasts from both the Christian and secular markets. Sadly, my attempt to turn a hobby into a potential side-gig never panned out. My love for album reviews, however, has endured to the present day, and I still spend at least a couple hours a week reading reviews over at Jesusfreakhideout1, Sputnikmusic, Angry Metal Guy, The Progressive Subway, and more.
In 2020, I began experimenting with Instagram microblogging as a new format for writing reviews. I would write them for Instagram, under Instagram’s limits, and then publish them on both Instagram and my (now defunct) personal website. The clickthrough rate on those website reviews was actually 0.0%, but the Instagram versions got a small amount of traction. For this year, I decided to publish all these reviews as zero-click-content on all my main socials and got significantly more engagement than I ever did trying to get people on my personal website. Turns out giving away your content in the spaces where people are already at actually gets their eyeballs on your work and hearing to what you have to say.
What follows are all those reviews collected and published in one place. A critical distinction between the albums and the books I picked for this list is that these albums all released in 2024, while the books are not. If you’ve got a best-of list that you wrote and published somewhere, put it down in the comments below and I will check it out.
Hope you enjoy, and see you in 2025!
5 (Albums): Foxing, by Foxing
If Bo Burnham made an emo alt-rock album, it would be Foxing’s “Foxing”.
There would be differences, of course. Burnham’s sardonic comedy, which effectively masks his Ecclesiastes-tier despair under the veneer of catchy synth-pop bops, would have to give way to weeping and gnashing of teeth. There is nothing funny about “Foxing”, and it certainly isn’t very pop-y, but you know exactly where this album is going when Conor Murphy cries “Throw out all the joy and show me metrics for my failures / I live in modern times give me a modern sense of worth” a few minutes into the album. The ensuring laments of numb anxiety and the yearning to feel something, anything, again would make both Burnham and Solomon proud.
Foxing’s long-lauded mastery of multiple genres continues in full strength on their fifth album, as does the breadth of Murphy’s vocal range. The ability to go from blitz paced emo-core (“Hell 99”), to drenched post-rock soundscapes (the end of “Greyhound”), to nu-metal (“Dead Internet”), to U2-esq stadium ballads (“Hall of Frozen Heads”), and several other musical destinations in between is nothing short of jaw-dropping, made even more impressive by the fact Foxing’s sound never as though its swerving too hard in a new direction. Murphy himself embodies this in his ability to go from soaring highs to the faintest of frayed wailing seemingly in the same breath - see Song of the Year candidate “Gratitude”. The consistency amid the diversity is breathtaking.
“Foxing” is a bleak album. It beautifully captures the angst of our present cultural moment, and it captures the quiet cracks beginning to form in the innate yearning for something more. As Murphy channels his inner Bono in the final musical peak of the album, "I’ve been harboring resentment / Meant for lack of eventfulness in divine sense / I wanna be Saul to Paul in Damascus / Awakened above the masses / The last gasp of god before the rapture / Chariotted high above a glass earth / But instead / I’m tiptoeing the fractures / I’m obsessed with what if it shatters / Or doesn’t matter.”
Thankfully, it does matter.
5 (Books): Biblical Critical Theory, by Christopher Watkin
I don’t think I’ve ever read a book like this before.
No, that’s not true. I know, with certainty, that I’ve never read a book like this, and I’m more than willing to bet you haven’t either. Whatever your impression of what this book is judging by the title cover, I can guarantee you it is not what you expect it to be. What is it, then? It’s a commentary on the entire Bible. It’s an apologetic barrage against every -ism you’ve ever heard on every point of the culturasociopolitical spectrum. It has pictures. It’s drenched in humor, joy, and hope. It covers science, history, medicine, government, education, media, technology, and dozens of other topics, sometimes in the same chapter. I promise you’ve never read anything like this, because there really hasn’t ever been a book like this.
As impressive as that is, the most impressive aspect of the book is Watkin’s humility in handling his subject matter, often acknowledging that he is not an expert in every subject and inviting others to come in and critique and expand his project. Watkins spent 15 years (his “15 year itch” as he calls it in the prologue) working on this book, and he concludes this 600+ page work with a recognition that he has barely scratched the surface. What he has laid out is a vast map, with dozens of Xs on the map indicating more treasure to be found - but rather than hoarding those treasures for himself, he invites others to join the gold rush. 3 years into my own 15-year-itch (a likely timetable at this rate), and Watkin’s lasting exhortation is not towards himself and his own insights, but the insights yet to be uncovered. With your gifts and talents, you may be able to discover these insights yourself.
This book is not for everyone. Despite Watkin’s ability to write clearly (and often humorously) for a popular-level audience, there is a density here that can be intimidating. For those willing to take the plunge, though, they may find the book reads much quicker than they anticipated. When they finish, I’m confident they too will say they’ve never read anything like it.
4 (Albums): Voidkind, by Dvne
This year’s Dune was very good.
Sorry, you must’ve thought I meant “Dune: Part Two”, the sequel to 2021’s cinematic blockbuster starring Timothée Chalamet and Zendaya. While yes, that Dune was great, I was talking about this year’s new album from Dvne (pronounced “Dune”), a rising star in the prog metal world. Their previous album, 2021’s “Etemen Ænka”, solidified themselves as a serious force to be reckoned with, worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as Mastodon and The Ocean. This year’s release, “Voidkind”, powerfully crystalizes the band’s psychedelic sludge-metal (along with the band’s cryptic dark sci-fi epic storytelling) into a sound that is familiar, but powerfully distinct from their peers.
Huh. Releases in 2021 and 2024. Psychedelics. Sci-fi. I’m sensing a theme here.
Dvne’s sound is without equal in their corner of the prog metal world, but if you’re not a fan of harsh vocals, dissonant riffs, or non-traditional song structures, you need not apply here. The numerous instances of beautiful ambiance and atmospheric bliss will not be enough to overcome the fierce energy the band brings to the majority of the album, and the album’s story - buried underneath a large Spice deposit of vibes - will not entice you either. But for those with an appetite for that kind of feast, “Voidkind” will leave you stuffed and then some. In a year where several established prog titans dropped the ball (looking at you, Leprous and VOLA), Dvne rose to the monumental expectations the scene had for them and surpassed those expectations with flying colors with “Voidkind”.
My only gripe (if I can even call it that) is the band opted for a more “garage-grunge” approach to production, rather than continuing the lusciously epic soundscapes that made their sophomore release stand out so much. For the heavier sections, this approach works quite well, but it does dampen the legitimately good atmospheric approaches the band takes throughout. A minor complaint, however. Dvne, like Paul Atreides, is the Duke of their respective house - and possibly the rightful heir to the throne.
4 (Books): The Faithful Executioner, by Joel F. Harrington
Sometimes surprising insights come from surprising places.
The story of Meister Franz Schmidt, a professional physician, torturer, and executioner who lived in Nuremberg during the Protestant Reformation, is one of the most strikingly illuminating stories about modern life I’ve ever read. Had you told me that up front, I wouldn’t have believed you. But it’s true. I learned more about my own society, and our own modern notions of justice, vocation, endurance, and compassion, than anything else I’ve read on modern life in a long time.
Schmidt, who was forced into a ghastly profession through unjust circumstances, resolves that he will not let his future family suffer the same fate. An official outcast in a “dishonorable” profession, the rest of “honorable” society is hopelessly dependent on his unique skillset, even though they want nothing to do with him outside of the times his services are required. Rather than let this identity lead him into a life of immorality with his fellow dishonorable outcasts, Schmidt resolves that he will life a live of unscrupulous excellence despite the stigma he carries. He vows to avoid alcohol (something virtually unheard of in his day) and goes on to fulfill his vocation so well that he not only becomes a highly sought-out expert in his own day, but an enduring individual of historical significance. His journal, thought to be the only historical document of its type, does not paint the man as a bloodthirsty monster, but one who was deeply religious and wrestled with how to be a compassionate healer - which he always believed to be his true life calling - while fulfilling the role of the government’s sword.
But does Schmidt succeed in breaking his family out of the cycle of the “family trade” of torture and execution? I won’t spoil how the story ends. I will say, though, that sometimes the best way to understand our present world is to understand the world that came before it, or in this case, nearly 500 years ago.
PS: the commentary about Franz and social media management will have to wait for another day.
3 (Albums): The Last WILL and TESTAMENT, by Opeth
You never forget some moments in life:
Your wedding day.
Graduating from college.
Getting the dream job.
The birth of a child.
The return of Mikael Åkerfeldt’s signature growls on an Opeth track 16 years after they were last heard on 2008’s “Watershed”.
One of those is not like the other, but if you’re a prog metal fan, you will likely never forget the moment you pulled up “§1” to hear a sound you’d given up on ever hearing again. Opeth was back.
Or was it? Åkerfeldt has long stated that he couldn’t care less about the opinions of his massive global fanbase, and that he will make the music that he wants to make and will make him happy. While 2011’s “Heritage”, the band’s first foray away from death metal towards classic prog rock, was wildly controversial at release (and now universally acknowledged as the band’s worst album), the band’s subsequent releases found themselves dialing in a second sound that stood on its own, chief among them 2014’s “Pale Communion” and 2019’s “In Cauda Venenum”. The Oldpeth/Newpeth debates assumed that Opeth was talented enough to live in two distinct genres; was it actually necessary to go back and pretend this extended prog-rock detour never happened?
Thankfully, no, it wasn’t. “The Last WILL and TESTAMENT” is the perfect fusion of Opeth’s trademark death metal with their modern revival of classic prog rock sensibilities, and the result is one of the most creative albums in the band’s 30+ year history. Åkerfeldt’s growls do not feel out of place any more than Jethro Tull vocalist/flutist Ian Anderson’s spoken word narrations and complimentary flute solos, and new drummer Waltteri Väyrynen injects youthful energy back into the band’s sound thanks to his extreme metal background. Contrary to the album’s title, this is the birth of a new Opeth, one that combines both eras of the band’s sound into something that is freshly reinvigorated.
Opeth’s future has never been brighter. Oldpeth will always be the cornerstone of my prog metal palette, and Newpeth was fine for a time, but I gladly welcome Neopeth with open arms.
3 (Books): The Reformation as Renewal, by Matthew Barrett
I am a Protestant because I love catholicism.
The notion that the Reformation was a clean schismatic break from one continuous unified church is a caricature that is long overdue for retirement. As Eastern Orthodoxy continues its surprising ascent in the West, reintroducing a long-overlooked third category of global Christendom (and an even greater division than the Reformation) to those who only knew of the Catholic-Protestant binary, the Reformation is also being re-examined with a new set of eyes. Does the popular level myth that the Reformers were entirely opposed to everything branded as “catholicism” and wanted to hit the reset button truly have any merit?
When you read the words of the Reformers themselves, an entirely different picture emerges. Rather than leave catholicism entirely and starting a new church from scratch, the Reformers saw themselves as the ones going back to a biblical, apostolic catholicism that Rome had left behind. It is a subtle distinction, but one that brings a tsunami of implications. Barrett’s massive tome (800+ pages!) is an exhaustive examination of the Reformation that emphasizes both the continuities and discontinuities of the Reformer’s beliefs and teachings with the apostolic and medieval church, rather than exclusively magnifying their discontinuities in a shallow us-versus-them examination of one of the most important movements in history. The divergences, as codified in the Solas, are important. The convergences, as highlighted by everything the Solas do not address, are arguably just as important, and have been neglected for far too long.
Contrary to most Protestants today (sadly, even Reformed Protestants), the Reformers wanted more catholicity than what the Roman church was offering, not less. The history of the catholic church - up to a particular point! - is the history of every Christian. We have nothing to lose, and immense treasure to gain, by seeing the Reformation as the renewal it truly was.
2 (Albums): Absolute Everywhere, by Blood Incantation
“What if Pink Floyd made a death metal album?”
“That’s a stupid idea,” you may be thinking.
You’re right. That is a stupid idea.
But hear me out: what if someone did just that, and contrary to every gut reaction you may have at the words “death metal Pink Floyd”, it was actually good?
And not just “good”, but “so good it has won Album of the Year awards from numerous metal magazines” good? Not just “this is way better than it has any right to be” good, but “this is a steroid shot in the arm for an entire genre” good?
With “Absolute Everywhere”, Blood Incantation have found a way to force oil and water to mix together. By the time you’ve finished the first part of “The Stargate”, one of the album’s two 20 minute long songs, any lingering doubt about the band’s ability to excel in two wildly different worlds will be completely dispelled and leave you slack jawed at the band’s technical and creative prowess. What begins as sharp and precise death metal (with shockingly good production values for a genre infamous for often being a wall of indecipherable noise) quickly morphs into a synth-driven classic rock groove culminating in a soaring guitar solo with a drenched shimmering wetness that David Gilmour would be proud of before snapping back to pounding riffs like the 70s fever dream bridge never happened. And that’s just the first ten minutes of the album. Trust me, you just have to hear it to believe how well it works - and if you like it, there’s 30 more minutes where that came from.
In a world where my Album of the Year didn’t release this year, I would join the legions of metal fans proclaiming it the best metal album of 2024. “Absolute Everywhere” is an instant classic, and one that will infuse explosive new inspiration and creativity into a genre that has been stuck in a musical rut for some time. On paper, the question “What if Pink Floyd made a death metal album” is a stupid idea; in reality, that death metal Pink Floyd album is nothing short of a groundbreaking masterpiece.
2 (Books): Neo-Calvinism, by Cory Brock and N. Gray Sutanto
“The forms of our godliness are not the source of our power.”
A lightning bolt struck me one spring day in 2023. Having spent the better part of the last five years writing on media literacy and Christian discipleship (culminating in producing my dream project Mending Division Academy) I had to confront a simple but disturbing fact about myself and about my work: I was emphasizing the wrong thing.
Embedded in Paul’s admonition to avoid those “having the appearance of godliness but denying its power” (2 Tim 3:5a ESV) is the seed of freedom from the tyranny of misplaced emphasis. It is possible to write about Christian discipleship and emphasize forms of godliness, thinking that the forms of godliness are the source of our power. But the forms of our godliness are not the source of our power. It is the Spirit, not your media habits, that empower you to live a life bearing fruit for Christ and his kingdom. To riff on Lewis: aim at media habits and you get neither good habits nor the Spirit; aim at the Spirit and you get both.
I didn’t know it at the time, I had stumbled my way into a critical distinctive of Neo-Calvinism: the difference between forms and the essence of orthodoxy. I cannot do better than what Brock and Sutanto summarize on this early in their groundbreaking new book: “The forms of Christianity might look different from age to age, and from place to place, but the essence remains the same. Conservatism clings to a dead form while forgetting that the essence can live on through new cultural, linguistic, and philosophical dresses. It mistakes the forms for the essence. . . . Precisely because the Christian faith is truly universal, it can utilize and reshape any culture, philosophy, and place, and is not tied down to any one culture, philosophy, or place.”
Eureka. The tip of the iceberg.
This isn’t to say that everything I’ve done over this period is false or unhelpful. Far from it. But while I have been wrong on somethings for some time now, I praise the Lord that, through Brock and Sutanto’s work, I am freed from Postman’s ghost.
Album of the Year: Charcoal Grace, by Caligula’s Horse
What does the end sound like?
We won’t know what the end of all things sounds like until Christ returns. But for the endings to seasons in life - in this case, four year-defining endings during the first half of this year - some sounds give voice to the grief, sadness, and retrospection that appear when chapter(s) close better than what words can do alone. Just as they did in 2020, Caligula’s Horse narrates an even bigger period of transition in my life with “Charcoal Grace”, and for the first time in the 14 years that I’ve been reviewing music Caligula’s Horse are the first band I’ve bestowed two Album of the Year awards to.
If 2017’s career-defining “In Contact” was perhaps a hair too bloated, and 2020’s “Rise Radiant” perhaps a hair too optimized, “Charcoal Grace” is safely inside the Goldilocks zone of the band’s signature modern prog metal sound and style (albeit with an extra side of dreamy delays and reverb). Leaning back into their penchant for lengthy, sweeping epics - but wisely dividing them into four distinct tracks - the titular mid-album suite (a bold choice in a genre known for its grand finales!) is a harrowing tour-de-force dealing with some of the very subject matter that fueled my work with American Values Coalition in producing Mending Division Academy, one of the many capstones to these past four years. But a four part, 24-minute song is but one peak on this mountain; three other songs break the 10 minute mark, but none of these carry even the smallest amount of wasted space. Musically, “Charcoal Grace” is the best of both albums that came before it, but transcends the emotional depth of the two prior albums combined. I thought Caligula’s Horse raised the bar dangerously high with “Rise Radiant” in 2020; they have surpassed that bar with ease and set a new height for what the band is capable of.
All good things come to an end, but sometimes good things must end so that great things can begin. My life, as I long knew it, is now over; a different life, a better one, is here. So on I sail, those cliffs behind.
Book of the Year: Words of Radiance, by Brandon Sanderson
It wasn’t even close.
In the 90s and 00s, it was Rowling’s world. In the 10s, it was Martin’s. In the 20s, it’s now Sanderson’s world and we are all living in it. “Words of Radiance”, the second entry in the criminally overlooked fantasy epic Stormlight Archives, is not only my new all-time favorite work of fiction (sorry, Anna Karenina), it is one of the greatest sequels of all time, worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as The Empire Strikes Back, The Two Towers, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, and more. Shardblades are the new Lightsabers and I will not hear otherwise.
Trying to summarize this book is impossible, and given that it is a sequel, I wouldn’t try even if I could. The breadth of Sanderson’s writing is…how do you describe it? The man is one of the clearest and plainest writers I’ve ever read, with world-building that rivals that of Tolkien (especially in later books), and unlike Martin, does not rely on needless sex and violence to create characters and events that will become paradigmatic for future fantasy authors. The scale of the story is breathtaking, as are the locales it takes place in. The conflicts are simple to grasp, but deeply complex, with multi-dimensional dynamics that explore the psychological depths of each of the main characters and their conflict with allies, enemies, and the forces of the world they live in. The last 300 pages of this book alone is one of the most riveting, enthralling, and truly apocalyptic climaxes I’ve ever encountered, and if Stormlight Archive were to receive a “The Legend of Vox Machina” level animation treatment, it would immediately become the biggest media event since the Harry Potter films or Game of Thrones HBO adaptation.
I wish I could forget reading this book so that I could go back and experience it anew again. While I reserve my right to criticize issues in the series as they appear later on, I could not think of a single negative thing about “Words of Radiance” if I tried. Of all the things I read in 2024, this was my favorite by a billion miles, and it wasn’t even close.
If you made it all the way down here, thank you so much for reading. If you’ve enjoyed this piece, please consider subscribing and sharing with your friends! And remember: together, all of us are passing through this temporary digital empire towards the celestial city.
- Austin
I’m not exaggerating when I say I think I’ve read every single review published on JFH from their start to circa 2009-2010ish.
Three selections deep, and I can see this is save-worthy. Looking forward to going through each of these albums and adding reads to the infinity pile!