i. A Brief Catch-up ii. A Collection of Things Half-remembered iii. Films of the Year (sort of) iv. Janet Planet v. Albums of the Year by Joe Dewison
i. a brief catch-up
Oh hello! I almost didn’t recognise you, how’s it going? I know it’s been a while, what have you been up to? Really? That’s an odd Christmas present but fair enough, didn’t realise you were so passionate about window insulation. I’m running a bit late so… me? Oh, not much no just been getting by really. The Splat! stuff? No, no I’ve not been doing that for a while, I got a bit stressed trying to get things written in time for no one to read and get people to write for it, it began to feel a bit like giving out friendship homework. I also just had too many other things going on that I sort of fell out of the routine of it. Sorry I’m rambling, I suppose I’m a bit nervous bumping into you like this. Your hair looks good did you get a perm? I’m surprised you read Splat!, that’s nice of you. Yes, I suppose it was a bit self-indulgent and formally overcomplicated but… Yeah I know, I know. No, it’s not a criticism of the reader I just thought it would be a bit of fun. I don’t really see how it’s devious. Oh, tedious, I thought you said devious! Yes, I suppose it is a bit tedious. Well, it was nice seeing you. All the best with that double-glazing evening course. Oh yes, Happy New Year to you too!
ii. a collection of things half-remembered
When I look back I tend to become frustrated that my memory is void of the emotions a particular moment fostered. Emotions that seemed so vital in their short lifespan. The human brain has a design flaw that fails to consider how one truly felt months, weeks or hours ago, or at least my brain does. Perhaps that’s why I’m not a person who tends to reminisce, socially or privately. It eventually becomes impossible to track the true reasons for how I acted or how a particular experience informed me because it feels so apart from me, crude and disjointed and wholly uninteresting. Because of this, I have always felt nostalgia is less an emotion and more a substitute for one.
I suppose it’s inevitable that these kinds of thoughts permeate the arrival of a new year. I intended to write a year in review but truthfully I don’t know how to go about it in a wholly honest or interesting way. My solution was to write something that is neither. I don’t think much has changed from the beginning of 2024, same job, same home, same friends, same lack of disaster, same amount of minor misfortune. Everything has persisted at the same pace. Not to brag but I’ve done an amount of stuff. Then again, I also did some things the year before. I’d like to think that this perceived continuity is a sign of things going well, a lack of catastrophe that would otherwise signify the alteration to an existence that I find, for the most part, affirmable. But what if it is instead a sign of stagnation, a lack of persistence on my part? Maybe, because I neglect a personal history, I can’t see where things are going and have refused change partly as a way of remembering.
I say this like I’m someone who has amnesia or repressed my past because of a heinous crime but it’s more the small details within the narrative of things that tend to be smoothed out by years stuttering forward. I sometimes feel as though I am dropped into a pre-established life, that I am only whole in the eyes of people who can remember what I was like as a baby, or an awkward teenager or on Monday when I was being a bit stroppy or last week when I was on great form. It’s probably a good thing that we only see ourselves partially. That we are not more than who we are at this exact point in time, something to be misremembered down the line. Do you remember when you wrote that thing about memory that didn’t really go anywhere? Not really, no.
iii. films of the year (sort of)
Somewhat stealing a format from another in-house writer that will not be named, I have decided to make a list of my favourite film-viewing experiences of the year. What makes this list legally distinct and not a cheap imitation of what you will read in two segments times is that this is less a ranking system and more a collection of moments, each linked to a particular part of my year. It will act less as a review of each film and more as a celebration of the film viewing experience more broadly and how this shapes the texts themselves.
West Side Story (2021)
I’m sitting in my flat in Glasgow watching Steven Spielberg’s remake of the 1961 musical ‘West Side Story’ with my Dad. It’s the early afternoon and I’m off my tits, absolutely sky high, I feel warm and fuzzy from head to toe. There is a looseness that soars through me and I feel perfectly content despite feeling utterly terrible. My arm is in a cast. I’ve just received surgery on my wrist after breaking a bone during a major mishap involving a bollard that I will not go into further details of, as it makes me look bad. I’m also on very strong painkillers and I’m sort of in awe of how insanely mind-altering they are. In the course of a few short days, reality has become something of a secondary obligation. I’m not too sure why we settled on watching West Side Story, it wasn’t a film I was particularly interested in seeing and even though I have a soft spot for old timey musicals the 1961 version isn’t a film I revere. Now I think about it, I also don’t think my dad is a fan of the original and to my knowledge isn’t a big Ansel Elgort guy. The decision to watch the film is the kind only made when on strong medication and having access to Sky Cinema.
White Ribbon (2009)
A serendipitous day is sometimes needed. It lifts you out of an embedded routine, making you view the proceeding time a bit differently until you inevitably fall back into the trappings of being a person. I was having such a day a couple months ago when me and some friends decided to go for a hike just outside of Glasgow. After the walk, we went out for lunch and then back to my flat. I realise this prelude is very cheery for watching Michael Haneke’s ‘White Ribbon’, which is perhaps the singularly most harrowing film I’ve ever seen. But maybe that’s why it had such a huge impact on me, I was ready for something to artificially balance the emotional scales after such a suspiciously lovely day.
I Saw the TV Glow (2024)
If this were a list of my favourite films of 2024, which let me once again stress this is NOT, then I Saw The TV Glow would be at the very top. When a friend, and not to name drop but big time music critic, came to visit we decided to go see the film one afternoon. He’s not a massive film person but I thought this would be a safe bet if the soundtrack was anything to go by. We both left the cinema ecstatic, having felt as though we had seen something incredibly special and deeply moving in its singular nature. A couple of months later I showed the film to my flatmates and the whole film felt like it had altered in the meantime, not in terms of quality, but I got a whole new experience out of it the second time round that I think speaks to the depths of Jane Schoenbruns vision. That said it may not be a film for everyone, as after this second viewing one of my housemates turned to me and proclaimed “well, that was pretentious”.
Megalopolis (2024)
Oh my god. This is maybe one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences that you tell your children about. Like seeing that train coming towards the screen. I feel like this film has been talked to death but I would be remiss not to put it on this list as it was the single most insane time I’ve ever had at the cinema. Just mind-blowing in the worst possible way. At one point I left to go to the toilet and when I walked back in I had this surreal feeling seeing all these people in the cinema watching Adam Driver sitting on a big clock with a poorly rendered CGI background. It made me giddy. It felt like it shouldn’t exist. My friend turned to me at one point early on and whispered “This looks really, really bad”, almost to make sure it wasn’t just him. I’ve heard some people complain that the film isn’t ‘funny bad’ but my whole audience was having a great time, small blotches of laughter at first and then by the end, the room was going crazy. Definitely the best film-viewing experience of the year in its unique absurdity. Prior to the film I was so excited and hadn’t looked at any reviews so went in half hoping this may just be a stroke of crazy genius on Coppola’s part, to my pleasant surprise it was just plain crazy.
iv. janet planet
Over January I have been attempting to catch up on films that, for one reason or another, have slipped through the cracks of the last year. One such film that I was incredibly impressed by was Annie Baker’s directorial debut Janet Planet. The film takes place in Massachusetts during the tail end of the summer of 1991, as we view the rotational guests in acupuncturist Janet’s life through the eyes of her 11-year-old daughter Lacy.
From the very opening moments, as Lacy calls her mother in the middle of the night to ask her to pick her up from summer camp threatening suicide if she refuses only to change her mind once she arrives, I was immediately enveloped into Baker’s world. A world which is fully and cleverly observed, where a lot of character is implied or purposely obscured. The most telling moments are often the smaller ones like Lacy hiding under the kitchen table staring at her mother’s lost earring or Janet’s partner refusing to make small talk as they have breakfast in the garden.
The film explores a rural counterculture community and mines a lot of dry comedy from this whilst never looking down on the subject at hand or simplifying its inhabitance to the realm of easily drawn parody. This lends the film a unique perspective, beautifully rendering a feeling of place and time a generation removed from the hippydom of the 60s that, in the meantime, has fostered an utterly lost sense of personhood. All of the adult characters that are caught in Janet’s orbit exhibit frayed edges that unravel rather undramatically. People who try their best, with good intentions, yet are unable to escape this gentle brokenness. People who are desperately seeking, and even more desperately losing, consistency and purpose despite their tightly forged community. And then of course there is Lacy, who observes this instability and attempts to replicate the lostness she sees in the lives of those who pass in and out of hers.
The camera placement and blocking are equally as thoughtful as the thematics, with Baker favouring masters that very effectively situate you within a moment. Baker has previously worked in the world of theatre, winning the Pulitzer for her play ‘The Flick’. Unlike a lot of artists making this jump between mediums, you sense Baker has equipped herself with this new filmic toolbox in order to enhance the character work and situational storytelling that she evidently favours. All of this allows for the writing to take centre stage without ever being overwritten, there are these two excellent monologues delivered back to back while Janet and an old friend take MDMA that are so genuine you feel as though you are intruding.
At one point in the film, Janet confesses to her daughter that she has always had the ability to make anyone fall in love with her, a gift that she says has destroyed her life. This is perhaps one of those things, like homoeopathy, that only works if you believe it works. That the calm assuredness in Janet is useless within the spiralling reality she has found herself in. As the warm fuzz of the proceeding film envelops us we become more aligned with Lacy’s view of this confusing and oftentimes upsetting adult world. You start to feel the adoring cloying attachment mixed with concern transposed onto you, as it is from daughter onto mother. And it slowly dawns on us that perhaps Janet’s self-proclaimed powers are indeed legitimate.
v. albums of the year by Joe Dewison
Death, taxes, and the Splat!™ albums of the year list. There are few certainties in life, but like clockwork, the time of the year has once again come for us to discuss music; specifically, the best bits which came out over the last year. 2024 was a huge year for music, with it feeling more culturally relevant than it has done in years due to a couple of huge releases (more on that shortly). There was also an abundance of high-quality albums, so the thankless task of picking the top 10 rests on my shoulders.
10. Charli xcx – BRAT
There was no way I wasn’t going to include this. I can’t remember the last time – if ever – an album became so instantly synonymous with the year (specifically summer) in which it was released. We’ve all listened to it on repeat, we’ve all discussed it endlessly, what else is there to add? Suffice it to say there’s a reason it’s reached such an iconic status: it’s great. The aesthetics, soundscape and lyrics combine flawlessly to give a perfect depiction of going out, having fun, and the aftermath of this lifestyle in the modern age. It feels less like I have to justify why this album is on the list as much as I have to justify why it’s only at number ten. All I can say on that front is that there were nine albums last year I enjoyed even more.
9. Hurray For The Riff Raff – The Past Is Still Alive
Kicking off those nine albums is this beautiful country record from Alynda Segarra’s Hurray For The Riff Raff. This has everything you’d want from a singer-songwriter folk album: its sound is quaint while still being bold enough to leave an impression, its lyrics are nostalgic and uplifting without being cheesy. This album is guaranteed to cast your mind back to simpler times, playing on your cousin’s farm while the adults drink beers and talk the night away on the porch. Ok, I’ve never actually experienced this but the album conveys that feeling so well it makes me feel like I have.
8. Vampire Weekend – Only God Was Above Us
Back with their first new album in five years, New York band Vampire Weekend deliver once again with their unique brand of catchy, ethereal, genre-fusion rock. Arguably sounding tighter than ever, this album’s 47-minute runtime is packed end to end with, as the kids would say, bangers. With only ten tracks, there isn’t a single, as the kids would also say, miss here no cap. With its endless replay value and quotability, this will certainly be enough to tide us over for the next few years while they work on their next project.
7. Adrianne Lenker – Bright Future
Big Thief’s Adrianne Lenker is quickly establishing herself as one of, if not the best songwriter of her generation. Her latest solo album continues in the vein of her previous works, giving a more intimate, stripped-back feel than the band’s releases. This feeling is very much intentional, as these songs were recorded directly onto tape by just Lenker and a few close friends. The result is a more personal experience, which is perfectly suited to Lenker’s wistful and heart-wrenching lyrics. Topics including family, love and loss are explored in a way which is bound to tug at the emotions of anyone listening and leave a lasting impression.
6. Brittany Howard – What Now
Former Alabama Shakes singer Brittany Howard’s second solo album hasn’t received as much critical acclaim as its predecessor, but I personally think it’s better in every way. This album conveys such a strong sense of Howard being deeply in love that it’s hard to conclude anything else from listening to it; the luscious instrumentation combines with the soul-bearing vocals and lyrics about (obviously) love in a truly powerful way. The other great strength of this album is its pacing, with serene lulls interspersed between immense crescendos to make the listening experience so much greater than the sum of its parts.
5. Laura Marling – Patterns in Repeat
Speaking of being deeply in love, no album on this list conveys that feeling more precisely than English folk singer-songwriter Laura Marling’s latest effort. Her previous album, 2020’s Song For Our Daughter, was an outpouring of emotion directed towards a prospective daughter she imagined having in the future (and it was phenomenal). Its follow-up comes with one significant difference from the outside: she actually has a daughter now. Her feelings towards her new family are woven deeply into this record. It definitely feels more tactile than the last album, with Marling conjuring up specific and, without the context they’re placed into, seemingly insignificant memories of her partner and child rather than the more romanticised versions presented previously. This album is genuine, intimate, and just wonderful.
4. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds – Wild God
Somewhat surprisingly, rock legend Nick Cave comes out in 2024 with an album on par with the best of his previous works. I say it’s somewhat surprising not because of anything to do with Cave himself, just these late-career albums from iconic artists generally tend to disappoint. Cave is different. There is a grandeur to this album, partially due to its religious themes and partially due to the immense orchestral instrumentation. Entire articles have been written on Cave’s mixed relationship with Christianity, but his deep ties to it and his desire to create something greater than his human form can be felt purely by listening to this album. Religious or not, the stature and amount of soul put into this record create a cleansing experience for any listener.
3. Future Islands – People Who Aren’t There Anymore
Baltimore synth-pop band Future Islands have been around for almost twenty years and have been prominent names for at least ten, but I have to admit they never really caught my attention until this album. It’s hard to listen to People Who Aren’t There Anymore without it capturing the attention. This record is the result of the band absolutely perfecting their sound, with layers of dreamy synths accompanying lead singer Samuel T Herring’s soaring operatic vocals to create memorable track after memorable track. There is quite a grand orchestral feel to this, not dissimilar to the previous album on this list, but what puts it above is just how catchy it is; every track is a satisfying journey through the band’s gorgeous soundscape which can be replayed over and over again.
2. Waxahatchee – Tigers Blood
One word which I heard for the first time in 2024 was ‘countrygaze’. This describes a new wave of indie artists combining (points if you guessed it) country and shoegaze music. One of the leading proponents of this is MJ Lenderman, who teamed up with country-rock singer Waxahatchee on her latest album Tigers Blood. This combination is just so perfect, with Waxahatchee already being one of the most endearing songwriters in the indie circuit, Lenderman’s droning guitar riffs add that extra little kick to take her music to a level it hadn’t previously reached. I hate to use a corporate term, but the distribution of labour is exactly right here, with Waxahatchee given the reins on the songwriting, allowing it to be reminiscent and uplifting, while Lenderman can focus on making the instrumentation fuller with his guitar playing and harmonising beautifully at just the right times. This was easily my most listened to album of the year and I certainly hope to see more from the pair in future.
1. Mount Eerie – Night Palace
The only thing which could come out on top over an album which brought me so much happiness last year: one which genuinely made me depressed. Phil Elverum, or Mount Eerie, has documented his struggles with the ideas of impermanence and his own death very well throughout his career. Even so, this feels different. This is an hour and 20 minutes of pure loss and grief, with this incredibly sparse atmosphere that almost gives the feeling of Elverum already not being here. I would honestly recommend being careful with this album and perhaps not listening to it without being in a comfortable place mentally. If you can do that though, the reward is immense. This album is hauntingly beautiful; the layered and drowned-out instrumentation has this faraway feeling over Elverum’s quiet tuneful lamentations which makes the long runtime feel like nothing. I give thanks to him for this amazing record and hope he’s doing ok.
