Here we are again – that time of year in which we bundle up, deck the halls, and tell everyone our favorite records of the year. Last year, I only highlighted 5 albums as “the best,” which was my folly. There were several others released in 2021 that should have been included (such as the winking R&B funk of Bruno Mars and Aderson.Paak’s collaborative Silk Sonic, The Black Keys’ swampy blues tribute Delta Kream, and Turnstile’s exuberant punk ode to positivity Glow On). I’m not sure why exactly I neglected them; I had a lot going on and I think that I didn’t quite give my due diligence. To ensure I don’t miss anything I’m going to shout out 15 records from 2022 that stood out to me.
It’s funny – at 32 years old, I know what kind of music I like. Even between disparate genres, I know what I look for in each style. So it’s really not a surprise that most of the entries on this list are from artists that I already enjoy; it makes sense that they will put out music that agrees with me. For a while I strove to include releases from artists outside of my typical wheelhouse, because I wanted to paint a complete picture in the year of music. But you know what? This is a personal blog, not a publication attempting to appease all readers. If you are reading this, you are obviously interested in what I have to say and what I am interested in. So while there are a few new-to-me artists on here, and there were certainly other releases this year that I enjoyed and should probably be included in any objective roundup of the best of the year, this isn’t that list. Now, listed in order of release, here are my 15 favorite albums of 2022.

Dawn FM – The Weeknd
The Weeknd’s neon streaked After Hours appeared on my best of 2020 list, and he continues his streak with its follow-up. Dawn FM takes its predecessor’s Eighties veneer and molds it to the heady concept of an end-of-life radio station. As the listener passes through the void, the songs meditate on their past life’s triumphs and regrets. It’s a thematically darker record overall than After Hours, but it still sports irresistibly smooth hooks and sparkling production. As with all of The Weeknd’s projects, it’s a futuristic nighttime listen that sends you off on the DJ’s (played by Jim Carrey of all people) existential musings. By the end, you’ve experienced both a bumping R&B sequence as well as a true concept record that inspires introspection.

Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You – Big Thief
Big Thief let loose an epic with the epically titled Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You. A sprawling 20 track double album runs the risk of feeling bloated or running out of ideas, but the always inventive indie rock quartet keep the proceedings engaging and diverse through it all. It all hangs on frontwoman Adrianne Lenker’s piercing lyrics and fragile, emotive delivery; guitarist Buck Meek’s broken, searching lines; and the elastic tumble of bassist Max Oleartchik and drummer/producer James Krivchenia. The record spans many moods but all feel coherent under an overarching theme of intelligently examining one’s place in the world and connection with others. There’s the existential bounce of “Time Escaping,” the tender sweetness of “Sparrow,” the melancholic rush of “Little Things,” the country romp of “Red Moon,” and more. It’s inarguable to say that Big Thief has assembled a masterpiece, one that is suitable for campfires with friends, morning drives, or dark nights of contemplation.

Lucifer On the Sofa – Spoon
Despite my chronological ranking, this is my single favorite album of 2022. I’ve seen so many people over the years call Spoon “the most underrated modern rock band” that I’m not sure if they are truly underrated anymore. In any case, Lucifer on the Sofa is one of the strongest efforts in the Austin, TX band’s almost 25 year career. After a couple more produced releases that focused as much on atmosphere as riffs (not necessarily a bad thing), Spoon put out a stripped down return to form that is immediate, catchy, and energetic. Single “Wild” is by far the standout, a huge uplifting chorus and lyrics that yearn for more out of life. In an age where rock has definitely taken the backseat on the mainstream stage, it’s so great to still get a straight up alt rock record that sports attitude and honors roots yet still feels modern. Spoon’s sound always feels quintessentially cool, and Lucifer on the Sofa is no exception. Although this time it’s a rougher cool, which is even cooler. They are lowkey one of the coolest around.

Unlimited Love – Red Hot Chili Peppers
The Red Hot Chili Peppers never went away, but April’s Unlimited Love still feels like a comeback. That’s because it’s the first release in 16 to feature guitar virtuoso John Frusciante. He quit the band in 2010 to focus on his solo music, after which the Chili Peppers soldiered on with protege Josh Klinghoffer. Eventually, the two camps realized that they missed playing with each other, and Klinghoffer was given the boot. No offense to him or anyone else who has played guitar with the venerable California band over the years, but Frusciante is hands down the guitarist of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Unlimited Love finds an older and more mellow band than what many know, yet they consolidate their strengths and strengthen their depth. Opener “Black Summer” feels like it could slide right onto the Californication tracklist, and “Poster Child” grooves in a soft psychedelic cloud. Speaking of grooves, “Aquatic Mouth Dance” displays a funk that is so tight that it wraps around your body and forces you to move. Elsewhere, “These Are the Ways” is a heavy showcase for drummer Chad Smith’s chops, and “Not the One,” finds Anthony Kiedis in a reflective (and coherent) lyrical space. Finally, penultimate track “The Heavy Wing” is a powerful showcase for Frusciante, who takes lead vocals and leads us through an epic electro-prog rock song. RHCP released another album this year, called Return of the Dream Canteen. It’s clearly made up of outtakes from Unlimited Love, but still has a handful of strong tracks (especially the catchy “Tippa My Tongue,” and “Eddie,” which features one of Frusciante’s most technically and emotionally mindblowing guitar solos). If they had combined the strongest songs from each into one streamlined album, then they could have had one of the greats of their career. As it is, a fanboy like myself is never going to argue against more Chili Peppers, and Unlimited Love stands as a great late stage statement.

Bronco – Orville Peck
Orville Peck hit the scene in 2019 as one of the more unique country stars. The fringe-masked singer seems to sport a campy aesthetic, but his music pulls directly from the austere songcraft of classic country and the transgressive toughness of outlaw country. On top of that, Peck’s open homosexuality, while not explicit in his lyrics, informs an overall progressive and left-field take on the country genre that feels fresh and contemporary. And that VOICE. Peck’s versatile baritone could make the phone book sound engaging, and imbues his songs with a deep pathos. Sophomore LP Bronco boasts fuller production than his debut, making the tracklist feel more diverse while also emphasizing the songs’ power. Opener “Daytona Sand” is a sure-to-be nostalgic sunset beach anthem, and “Outta Time” packs tons of swagger into the entertaining verses. Finally, “C’mon Baby, Cry” showcases those pipes in a way that echoes Elvis, Roy Orbison, and the Righteous Brothers, all clear influences on Peck’s style overall. Who knows where this American original will go next, but I’m excited to see.

Fear of the Dawn – Jack White
Jack White is without a doubt one of the last true rock stars. Which is weird, because (excepting his concurrent work with The Racoteurs and The Dead Weather) his solo work has been a case of diminishing returns. His last release, 2018’s Boarding House Reach, was a confused attempt to update his sound with electronic and hip-hop music, and ended up a muddled disappointment. Fast forward to now, and White releases two albums. The first, Fear of the Dawn is a concept record about the night and darkness. It’s all electric, and does a much MUCH better job of fusing his traditional garage rock with more modern notions and digital recording. For the first time ever, White captures the energy that made The White Stripes so great, with blistering guitarwork, unhinged vocals, and outright batshit crazy production. Fear of the Dawn is a weird and wild album – it even includes a bewildering Q-Tip feature that works due to sheer chutzpah. Jack’s second 2022 album Entering Heaven Alive is a completely acoustic affair that showcases the other side of the Detroiter’s musical personality. It’s a fine record that complements its predecessor satisfyingly, but for my money Fear of the Dark is the better album. Through all the zaniness, the songs are still well written and tightly performed, with White’s typically winking lyricism. It’s exactly what White needed to release at this point in his career – a fun hard rock record that shows he’s still got it.

Omnium Gatherum – King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard
Ridiculously prolific psych-rock band King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard are known for putting out a staggering number of releases per year, and 2023 was no different. The Aussie collective released 4 albums this calendar year (a relatively lax amount for them) and the crazy thing is, as always, they were all consistently good. April’s Omnium Gatherum was the best. Usually, King Gizz albums have some sort of lyrical theme or musical concept that simultaneously ties it all together and sets it apart from other entries in their discography. Omnium Gatherum is different – as the title implies, it is a compendium of stray ideas that didn’t fit on any other project. Only a band as inventive and visceral as KGLW could make what’s essentially an album of outtakes into a major release. The 80 minute album opens with “The Dripping Tap,” a volcanic explosion of energy that rages for 15 minutes until bubbling over into an overflowing of ecstasy. Next, in a completely different direction, is “Magenta Mountain,” a gooey synth-lead bop. Elsewhere there is the bulldozing heaviness of “Gaia,” the out-of-nowhere hip-hop experiment “The Grim Reaper,” and the catchy alt-rock of “Persistence.” In rounding up a little bit of everything, Omnium Gatherum serves as a perfect sampler of everything King Gizzard does well, and is actually a great introduction for the uninitiated. In short, it rocks.

Impera – Ghost
Ghost gifted us my favorite metal album of 2022. From the moment the guitars kick in on “Kaisarion,” you know you are in for a good time. Impera is an unabashedly big, bright, and bombastic metal album, and the world is better for it. Huge hooky choruses, gnarly riffs, spiraling guitar solos, and lyrics that focus on the rise and fall of empires all come together to make something that is undeniable. Purists may cry foul that it isn’t as heavy as prior efforts, but Ghost has always presented their Satanic aesthetic with tongue firmly in cheek. Impera just brings that self-awareness to the forefront and focuses on release over scariness. If you haven’t yet boarded the Ghost train, don’t be turned off by their imagery. Give Impera a spin, and you’ll by raising your fist in a devil-horned salute before the tracklist ends.

Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers – Kendrick Lamar
I agree with most listeners in recognizing Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers as a more difficult, less immediate Kendrick album. It’s certainly not as good as his all time classics Good Kid M.A.A.D. City, To Pimp a Butterfly, or Damn. It is, however, a supremely deep and dense record that rewards repeat listens and furthers the rapper’s status as one of the GOATs. MM&tBS finds Kendrick reckoning with his status and examining how his critical reception reflects the state of the culture. “N95” is the requisite banger, but then things get more complicated. “Worldwide Steppers” is one of my favorite tracks, on which K-Dot catalogs the white women he’s hooked up with as a way to subvert racism. There’s also “Auntie Diaries,” which may not age perfectly but finds the MC addressing homophobia within Black culture via his experience with a trans family member. The other track that is impossible to not mention is “We Cry Together,” featuring Taylour Paige. Lamar and Paige trade off lines as they play an arguing couple. The argument reflects male and female stereotypes and toxic relationships, but what really makes the track is their performance. It is extremely raw in a way that is frankly hard to listen to, but also so captivating (while rhyming in meter!) that you can’t tear your metaphorical eyes away. “We Cry Together” is indicative of the album as a whole, as Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers is a complicated record that will surely be analyzed for years to come. For that reason, I have to include it on this list.

Heavy Pendulum – Cave In
Cave In is one of those bands that I sometimes forget about, but then every time I listen to them I think, “Man, these guys are so good.” They are sort of the Radiohead of the post-hardcore world, in how they take their established base of metalcore, then fuse in elements of alternative and prog to forge an experimental but accessible whole. Heavy Pendulum is no different. It’s their first recording after the tragic passing of bassist Caleb Scoffield, although he has a couple songwriting credits on the tracklist. The rest of Cave In craft a fitting tribute to their fallen member. The music is a little more mid-tempo than much of their early work, but that’s due more to a variety of sounds than a lessening of energy. They run the gamut from frantic riffage, to atmospheric buildups, headbaning breakdowns, and alternate between soaring clean vocals and throat-ripping screams. All the while the instrumentation is technically complex in a way that is exciting to listen to without losing the listener in wankery. All of these descriptors could apply to Cave In’s career as a whole, but Heavy Pendulum reminded me, yet again, to better incorporate this underrated band into my listening habits.

Versions of Modern Performance – Horsegirl
I love a good twiddly indie rock guitar record. Something about those dry, searing guitar leads, jangly riffs, and ramshackle rhythm just hits the sweet spot for me. It’s amazing that Horsegirl, whose three members are all 18 or 19 years old, are able to nail this sound on their debut album. On Versions of Modern Performance, they present all of this wrapped around sardonic vocals, with a bow of beautiful feedback squall to tie it together. Best debut of the year, and I’m very excited to see where the ladies of Horsegirl go from here.

Vaxis – Act II: A Window of the Waking Mind – Coheed & Cambria
Old habits die hard, and in this case, that habit is liking Coheed and Cambria. One of the dorkier rock bands that emerged in the 2000s, Coheed hooked me in high school with their bombastic blend of emo and progressive rock. The fact that all of their releases serve to tell a part of the extremely convoluted space opera story dubbed The Armory Wars, and this is a match made in nerd heaven. One of the band’s strengths is distilling their concepts into self-contained and quite catchy rock songs. However over the past several years, their songwriting began to lose focus as runtimes became more bloated. At a compact (for them) 53 minutes, Vaxis – Act II: A Window of the Waking Mind feels like a refocusing. Not only are the songs sharp and energetic, but the band adds new wrinkles to their sound that keep things fresh. In this case, tracks showcase an electronic sheen, and there is even some autotune present (as an effect, not a crutch). Rather than diluting their sound, Coheed and Cambria turn in a unique effort that at both reengaged me with their music while making me reminisce on driving around in my car back in high school.

Surrender – Maggie Rogers
I liked Maggie Rogers’ 2019 debut Heard It in a Past Life well enough; it had good lyrics and more musical diversity than many singer-songwriters in the current “sad girl” genre. When Surrender came out, a dutifully put it on one evening as I cooked dinner to see what her follow-up brought to the table. I was immediately grabbed by opener “Overdrive,” and continued to be floored by the rest of the tracklist. Here is a release that took the strengths of its predecessor and amplified it across the board, with introspective and relatable lyrics, melodies with hooks, strong vocal performances, and a broad sound palette that is couched in warm, layered guitars and keyboards. I must admit that the whole package is much more muscular than I originally expected, to its benefit. I recommend this one for when you are feeling in one of those contemplative moods.

Success – Oneida
Talk about beautiful noise. The Brooklyn based band Oneida is extremely hard to categorize: are they alternative? Noise? Krautrock? Prog? Psych? Often, they are a little of all of these things and more. On their 16th full-length since 1997, Oneida actually put out some of their most accessible songs. They are all normal length – no epic rhythmic explorations here! Don’t let that fool you though: gears are firing at 100% capacity on Success, with plenty of tearing guitar, bashing drums, and squalling feedback. Yet there are also ragged indie rock riffs and assertive vocals. The two longer tracks, “Low Tide” and “Paralyzed,” still give the band space to stretch out and get into the groove that they are so good at riding to the point where the incessant rhythm and excessive dynamics culminate into cacophonic transcendence. One of the more underrated bands out there, check out Oneida if you are into woolier rock.

Can I Take My Hounds to Heaven? – Tyler Childers
Kentuckian Tyler Childers has proven himself to be one of the guiding lights of the modern country movement, with one foot firmly in the most Southern tradition and another planted firmly in a modern progressive context. Add that in with his emotive, leathery voice and heart-on-sleeve songwriting, and you have a great in the making. Childers throws listeners for a loop on Can I Take My Hounds to Heaven? – he presents three different versions of the same 8 songs. The first version, dubbed Hallelujah, features Childers backed by his live band in stripped down, boot kickin’ hell raisin’ performances. Next, the Jubilee versions are softer and more produced, with strings, horns, and backup singers. Finally, the Joyful Noise versions present radically remixed instrumental versions of the song that include hip-hop sampling and soul flourishes. With this album, Tyler Childers once again shows that he is doing stuff that many other country singers wouldn’t even dream, and the scene is richer for it.
That’s all, folks! As always, here’s a playlist of selections from the above releases. Enjoy, and here’s to a new year!