The Most Anticipated Albums of 2024 | January-March
The first quarter of 2024 is upon us, and the industry has some real incredible records set to arrive between now and the end of March. We are especially excited about the upcoming releases from Kali Uchis, Sleater-Kinney, Katy Kirby and Yard Act, though that only just scratches the surface of what’s to come. Be sure to check back in here in March to see what’s to come in April, May and June. Without further ado, here is the first installment of our most anticipated albums of 2024. —Matt Mitchell, Music Editor
January 5
Pile: Hot Air Balloon EP
Sprints: Letter to Self
January 12
@: Are You There God, It’s Me @ EP
Kali Uchis: Orquídeas
Colombian R&B goddess Kali Uchis invited us into her high femme universe in 2023 with Red Moon In Venus, and she is continuing her floral fantasy in 2024 with her second full-length Spanish album Orquideas. In this love letter to her heritage, she is creating a mystical wonderland dedicated to the flower of Colombia—the orchid. In the album’s singles so far—Te Mata, Muñekita and Labios Mordidos—the nostalgic soul of Red Moon In Venus has given way to a vibrant party of Latinx celebration. Uchis is ready to bring the party in 2024. —Olivia Abercrombie
Marika Hackman: Big Sigh
Marika Hackman just keeps getting better on Big Sigh, her first LP of new songs since 2019. On “Slime,” Hackman opens gracefully, in a dreamy folk space before suddenly erupting into a flickering brightness—as she sings “I see you / I see you.” Her dynamic composition draws the song in and out, both sonically and emotionally. “I want your head above mine,” she vocalizes, in a moment of unbroken intimacy. Even still, she then concedes “These things take a little time.” “Slime” is pure desire in full, animated joy. It is sensual, yet so brilliantly patient. “Hanging” is the definition of a slow burn, and we can’t get enough of it. The track begins soft, slow and unassuming—with Hackman’s sweet vocals gently echoing off the edges of the mix. She’s hurting, and she holds nothing back in metaphor or imagery to show us that—as she sings, “I know you don’t mean it / But I’m breaking like a wound.” At around the halfway point, the track’s instrumental almost fully drops out, leaving us caught between Hackman’s quivering cadence and an impossibly tense silence. Hackman, though, does the impossible throughout the course of the song: She lets go. Drums, guitar and violin punch and pulse through a newfound loudness, exploding through the track’s previous understatedness. Hackman vocalizes—or, rather, almost yells—over them, singing “You were a part of me / I’m so relieved it hurts.” It is only here, when she finds the past tense to assert over the loudness, that we are able to breathe a sigh of relief. —Madelyn Dawson
Nailah Hunter: Lovegaze
Vacations: No Place Like Home
January 19
glass beach: plastic death
Green Day: Saviors
February also marks the 30th anniversary of Dookie. Feel old yet?
PACKS: Melt the Honey
Toronto’s PACKS are keeping pace to release an album every year of the 2020s. With their fourth album since 2021, Melt the Honey brings shoegaze flourish to their laid-back indie rock sound. Madeline Link continues to impress with maturity and poise with PACKS’ sun-drenched sound. —Olivia Abercrombie
Sleater-Kinney: Little Rope
As they prepare for the release of their forthcoming 11th studio album, it’s become increasingly clear that we must, at long last, universally consider Sleater-Kinney as one of the very best groups to ever do it. The alt-rock legends prove as much on “Say It Like You Mean It,” a battle cry sustaining the energy with which it opens through its whole length. Corin Tucker’s voice is clear, peremptory and biting, especially when she asks you to “Say it like you mean it.”. There is no way to deny her what she demands. With a thundering back beat and quirky, sporadic riffing from her and Carrie Brownstein, “Say It Like You Mean It” is pure rock bliss; Dig Me Out for an eternally moving, ferocious future. Equally as eternal was lead single “Hell”—a loud, unfettered volcano of rock ‘n’ roll that traverses across several distortions and melodies. Through racing guitars and piercing, confident and unrestrained vocals, “Hell” is big, bold, ferocious and plainspoken. “Hell don’t have no worries, Hell don’t have no past,” the track rings out. “Hell is just a signpost when you take a certain path.” A part of Little Rope was conceived after Carrie Brownstein’s mother and stepfather were killed in a car accident in 2022, and you can feel the grief and anger from the tragedy as a vital backbone in the song’s thematic spectrum—and, likely, the album’s, too. —Madelyn Dawson & Matt Mitchell
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