The Art Attic #2: 2024 in Music

Apparently, you don't get a Spotify Wrapped if you use the website instead of the app, but I don't need a service to tell me what I loved this year. 2024 has been an embarrassment of riches for music. With so much new music from pop queens new and established, I'm sure Olivia Rodrigo was patting herself on the back for releasing Guts in 2023.

Like most Americans, my top keep-me-going-through-work artists were Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan. I do have a lot of thoughts about “Pink Pony Club" and “Femininominon," but they haven't solidified into words yet. Since this is The Art Attic, I'm going to focus more on the music that's been living in my head rent free versus the songs I constantly turned to as audio adrenaline.

I've also been enjoying Halsey's The Great Impersonator, which will absolutely be getting its own edition of Art Attic. My “Bit of a Witch" playlist, packed with tubes from Aurora, Paris Paloma, Kiki Rockwell, and more has been playing loop whenever I've been angry. And Shaboozy was a surprise repeat play for me this year, because…

The biggest theme for me in 2024 was a genre Spotify called red dirt country. Now, I'm generally not a country person, but apparently I am when you remove twangs, pick-up trucks, and ‘merica. Give me tales of heartache and hard work, but leave the bros behind.

It started with Noah Kahan’s Stick Season Forever, a beautiful album that has taken up so much of my mind, it has its own zip code. This haunting tale of crushed dreams and a life that feels frozen will absolutely be getting its own edition of Art Attic, but in the meantime, weep with me over “Halloween." 

Then Beyonce dropped Cowboy Carter. I am not a member of the Bey-hive, but as a huge pop fan, I check out all the new releases from big artists. This is the first Beyonce album I've listened to over and over. (Not saying the others were bad, but they weren't for me.) 

First things first: stop calling this Beyonce's country album. There are certainly some country (genre) themes, but it's much more so a gauntlet thrown challenging the entire idea of genres. While the album contains country bops like “Texas Hold ‘Em," “Jolene," and “Most Wanted," it also boasts gospel "American Requiem,” 60s-flavored pop “Bodyguard" and "Ya Ya,” hip-hop “Spaghetti," and "Sweet Honey Buckin,’” traditional waltz “My Rose," and even opera "Daughter.” If anything Cowboy Carter is a planted flag saying this country (nation) is Beyonce's. 

There's barely a pause between all of those genres, each song blending into the other. Beyonce's thesis with Cowboy Carter isn't “I can do country too!"; it's that the old way -- organizing record stores by genre, sending songs to radio stations that only play genre X is dead. Music isn't even bound by time anymore as demonstrated by decades old songs by Kate Bush and Fleetwood Mac coming back on the charts. As Linda Martel says at the beginning of Spaghetti, “Genres are a funny little concept, aren't they? Yes they are. In theory, they have a simple definition that's easy to understand, but in practice, well, some may feel confined.”

I hope I can take some of this attitude into 2025. What are the old ways I'm clinging to out of habit? Where can I stretch myself?

Here are my Cowboy Carter Guides for 2025:

Stop limiting my definition of art. Usually, when I think, "I'm going to create art tonight,” I'm picturing myself at my desk or in my studio. But I could be painting a mural in my house or writing or dancing. I don't need to limit art to paper and resin.

Stop thinking in genres. One of my goals this year is to create more work with a blend of gouache and watercolor. I think trying more mixed media pieces would be good for my brain.

Genre-busting doesn't have to be a solo act. I need to return to doing art with my kid and talking art with my husband.

Experience more art. I went through a bad bout of depression around the holidays, but I felt healed after a night of art and music at a local art collective. I need to go to more live shows, visit more museums, attend more open mic nights. After all, a magpie doesn't build a treasure trove by standing still. I need to experience other people's gems, too.