This year kind of sucked, bro. Said it last year too. Like, I shouldn’t even have to say why if you pay enough attention and see the world with functional empathy. It’s hard not to be brought down by very real issues bigger than us happening now and coming even harder in the near future, especially if you’re in the US and have the honor of attempting to survive another Trump presidency. If you think that’s an overreaction, then this isn’t for you, take your privilege elsewhere.
For the rest of us, let this be a moment of respite, not so much to forget our realities, but to embolden us to face them. Three more Missed Connections articles, nine more albums from this year we missed and maybe you did too. In Part One, we’re talking about folked-up and touching soul, some captivating ‘shoegazeicana’, and dark and dank anarco-punk from the UK to wake us up. Let’s get it.
Dominik Böhmer
As far as the sheer quantity of stellar releases goes, 2024 has been an absolute doozy. Among that maelstrom of captivating, attention-grabbing content, it was easy to miss out on some smaller gems, ones that didn’t push towards the surface quite as forcefully. That doesn’t mean they are any worse than those that immediately reach the ears of thousands; there’s a self-assuredness to those records, an attitude of ‘let them find me, I will not compromise myself by flaunting my worth’ that I can get behind. One of those records I stumbled across thanks to the generosity of others is Dunya, the début by Sudanese-Canadian singer/songwriter Mustafa (FKA Mustafa the Poet).
It must’ve been one of the music magazines from the UK I like to indulge in whenever available (shout-out to Mojo and Uncut for doing stellar print work in this day and age) where I stumbled across this unassuming album, with its poetic title – ‘dunya’ means ‘the world in all its flaws’ – and cover artwork of a young Muslim getting his eyeliner done. What I read only cemented my gut feeling of ‘this is something I need to hear’, speaking of the tender, heartfelt nature of the music Mustafa produces by allowing an interplay between soul, r’n’b, and folk while delivering some of the most gorgeous lyricism of 2024.
Questions of faith, devotion, love, heartbreak, and identity are discussed in open, beautifully ornamental language, never drifting off into esoterica or wilfully oblique wordplay. Dunya is full of absolutely stunning lines, intimate confessions, pleas for love, forgiveness, and the wish to move on. I suppose the erstwhile moniker of the Poet only makes sense when looking at Mustafa’s talents at stringing words and thoughts together. At times the frank nature of his lyrics cuts quite deep; at others, they’re a soothing balm without compromising reality for shallow pacification.
I could genuinely, sincerely sit down and list out every single song for its beauty and virtue; I truly believe that Dunya is a gem of an album from top to bottom, without any filler material. Counterintuitively, this only makes a meaningful review harder to accomplish – what does one keep in the core text, and with what does one do away? Of course, I do have my personal favorites; the opening sextet between “Name of God” and “I’ll Go Anywhere” is perhaps the strongest individual stretch of music I’ve heard in a long time (special shoutout to “SNL” for being the song that sold me on the record initially), and songs like “Gaza Is Calling”, “Leaving Toronto”, and “Nouri” keep the quality high right until the end.
Mustafa gorgeously layers his vocals in many of these tracks, harmonizing with himself (and other vocalists) on multiple occasions to produce that coveted soul feeling many have tried to emulate over the last few decades. Throwing in shades of (indie) folk and Middle Eastern music only serve to further chisel out the identity of Dunya as a diverse and uniquely appealing experience. This is folk music that derives from a different walk of life than most of his contemporaries, which makes Mustafa’s contributions even more valuable.
Dunya, in all its flaws (of which there are remarkably few; what a record, my friends) will most likely go down as my favorite record of 2024. Even in a year that’s been dominated by my reawakened thirst for heavy music, it’s a soft-spoken, tender album of soulful folk songs that breaks the silence most potently. There’s a clever aphorism in there somewhere, I suppose. For me, it’s often the gentle voices that ring the most intently, and Mustafa is no different. Dunya is a stunning collection of songs, one which deserves all the praise and accolades I could possibly heap upon it. So while I go and spin it for the umpteenth time, how about you get acquainted with it as well? I assure you that you won’t regret it.
Alex Eubanks
Wish On The Bone was released in August, but to be honest it initially ended up on the back burner for me and was low on the list of albums I was anticipating giving a listen to. It was well received and highly recommended, but shit happens and there’s always other new music, and at the time I had never given a full listen to one of Why Bonnie’s albums before. I’ve been kicking myself for not checking it out sooner because it’s been on repeat since the first listen.
Some of my favorite songs of the year come off Wish On The Bone, and to be honest “Dotted Line” is one of the best tracks I’ve heard all decade. The track is structured perfectly, hammering you with cliches of snake oil salesmen before absolutely unloading one of the best choruses you’ll hear. “Dotted Line” builds and builds perfectly, it immediately captivates you at its simplest and only gets better as it goes. I love how well “Rhyme Or Reason” blends genres, including working in some folk elements, which generally does not work for me with most artists. There’s just something about the twanginess of it that sounds incredible. The title track leading off the album is another irresistible genre fusion with some of the strongest vocals you’ll hear all year. Wish On The Bone‘s first three tracks can go toe-to-toe with just about any album out, I have no idea how you can hear those three heaters in a row and not be immediately captivated.
Wish On The Bone stays extremely consistent throughout with stellar production to help enhance every moment. The album’s closer “I Took the Shot” is dreamy and sets an incredible atmosphere to fit Why Bonnie‘s ‘shoegazeicana’ style best and the chant-like closing line just makes you wish the track was longer. The band’s shoegaze influence comes out strongest on the beautiful, and meticulous “Green Things” where every second of the instrumentation is perfectly designed. “Fake Out” drifts a bit closer to some of the artists in the Soccer Mommy adjacent lane, and the instrumental is done very well, and only gets better the longer the beat rides.
The writing throughout the album by lead singer Blair Howerton is incredible throughout and is the perfect mix of catchy and poignant. The closing moments of “Weather Song” use repetition to perfection. I completely adore the ‘I’ll keep you cooled off and you’ll keep me warm’ line, and Howerton’s delivery of it only gets better repeat after repeat. “All the Money” is excellent at conveying the spite and tension for a failed relationship attempt, and again uses some excellent repetition throughout to keep the message straight. You can really feel the Texan come out on “Three Big Moons”. The post-Americana writing mixes perfectly with the twang and infectious melody. Impossible not to bob your head along with it.
Each year always brings a new crop of releases from some of our favorite artists to revel in, and I know I’ve personally gotten a good batch of favorites, but I think most devoted music fans would agree that it’s hard to beat the feeling of finding someone you hadn’t heard before that makes you feel just how your favorites did and that’s exactly what Why Bonnie did for me. Wish On The Bone is one of my favorite albums to drop in 2024, and I’ll eagerly be waiting for the next project from them – just as eagerly as I’ll be waiting for the out of nowhere album that I find myself falling in love with next year.
Dom
The first vote I was old enough to participate in in the UK was the referendum on leaving the EU. Vote Leave’s campaign relied on racist tropes and disinformation to persuade people to ‘take back control’ of our country, playing on patriotism and the empirical ideology of Great Britain as a world power to get their point across. Nigel Farage stood in front of his migrant billboard and the £350m a week for the NHS bus are now infamous. The 8 years since have seen a continuous downward trend towards the far-right, with 14 years of Tory austerity having battered the working classes providing a breeding ground for turning the population against each other through culture wars.
While the 2024 General Election was an opportunity for renewed hope, the UK has fallen into the trap of a disappointing centrist after a simply catastrophic collapse of the Tory party. Sir Keir Starmer, a former human rights lawyer with a patchy record on cases involving violence against women and a cabinet of Israel linked MPs, became the new Prime Minister. While the only left-wing Labour leader of my lifetime, Jeremy Corbyn, was vilified by the media (to the point the BBC depicted him as a Russian Communist), Starmer has been given free rein despite a lack of policy, direction and a seeming continuation of the centre-right policies of the previous government which not only abandon his party’s ideals but betray his own mantra for change.
On the day Starmer took office, the country’s continued hopelessness was summed up in an album, Subdued’s Abattoir. The misery of our useless first past the post political system allowed a weak politician a landslide victory with a lower share of the popular vote than the same party’s worst election result in 20 years under left-wing leadership seven years earlier. Within the country the working classes, queer communities, and people of colour (among others) continue to be trod upon while on the worldwide scale our government engages in genocide and back-up for any US military operation imaginable. Abattoir is an album that continues their unique style of goth and post-punk inspired anarcho punk, combining relics of the similarly dystopian Thatcher-era into a vibrant political statement for our time.
Beginning with the pulsing “Machine Hell”, Subdued take no prisoners and leave nothing to the imagine with direct lyrics and frantic guitars. Nicky Rat’s (also of our former WFA, The Annihilated) tom-led drum rhythms are reminiscent are the deep early goth drums while the intensity of the whole band gives it a much sharper bite. The question “Who Dies if England Lives” felt particularly poignant on July 4th this year, with Jack Sabbat’s lyrics calling into question the empire’s violent history (a violence we still perpetuate today) such as ‘Who dies if England lives? Peace made with blood, we walk to our destiny over rows of dead like paving slabs’. Sabbat’s biting lyrics against those in power continues on “Vulturemen”, taking aim at the ‘evil bastards who are always wanting more. More money, more blood, more war’. The dire situation in which we find ourselves is encapsulated by the atmospheres created, while we’re mostly powerless to watch Subdued have distilled this feeling into a raw and powerful LP. Aidan Elias’ production is equally clear but dirty, allowing space for the full power of the drums within a chaotically contained anarchy.
Finish continues the assault with Rat’s pulsating rhythms weaved aside d-beats as Ralph Simmonds’s guitars whir away. Its immediacy comes in between a bit more dynamic shifts in other songs, this one a lot more DIRT than Crass. Title track “Abattoir” is the most indebted to the early 80s post-punk and goth scene. Simmonds atmospheric guitars begin the song, a chorus soaked glutton of darkness. Rat’s drums continue to mire in the tom rhythms, reminiscent of the dub inspired style of early Bauhaus. Atop Sabbat’s piercing Cockney anarcho punk shouting continues the scathing appraisal of society. Of course, we never stray too far from the direct anarcho-punk as “Nothing Good Survives” begins with more atmospherics before the spasmodic and breakneck guitars and drums push the song into a frantic speed. Simmonds’ technical yet chaotic guitar work has long been a highlight of the Subdued sound but he must been shocked with a cattle prod before recording songs on Abattoir.
War remains a key theme during Abattoir, as if the title likening the world to an industrial butchery wasn’t hint enough, during “Children of God”. While ‘nothing grows but the viciousness of man’, Sabbat asks ‘can we continue without hope?’. Human nature supposes yes as we are born to survive as much as seem born to cause conflict. The hopelessness persists and has pervaded for much of my lifetime through numerous governments. Closing track “Deserve Anarchy” is a statement to a possible way forward. As Subdued forcefully believe ‘we deserve anarchy now!’, they’ve packaged it up in an angry and magnificent gothic anarcho-punk opus. While the music deserves to be heard, it is the poetic nature and political bite of the lyrics that makes Abattoir an essential album.
Subdued suppose on Abattoir that we deserve anarchy now, while the other option appears to be a slow descent to the far-right. As we’ve seen with the rise of Marine Le Pen in France and Giorgia Meloni in Italy, we’re getting perilously close to Nigel Farage being seen as a genuine political option. A sense of hopelessness is part of the national psyche, to those without their eyes glued to GB News. With albums like Abattoir to remind us what we will do in the underground and outside of the political system, there is still hope but it will take a society a lot of effort and willing to achieve more than that.
