A selection of 20 highlights from a widely varied year of Madison music.
Each and every year, Madison musicians manage to churn out a handful of surprises. Whether that’s in a live setting, through the music they release, or by way of unexpected collaboration (or innumerable other routes), there’s always a bevy of moments to celebrate by year’s end. Given the scale of Madison and how the music landscape functions in general, it’s also patently impossible to keep up with it all. Which makes it all the more notable when something incredible catches our collective ear.
In 2024, several Madison mainstays had their typically brilliant moments, across a variety of genres. Main players in the worlds of punk, jazz, hip-hop, and electronic music all got a word in edgewise, maintaining their characteristically high standards. Several of them are represented in the 20 selections below. And, as always, an emergent crop of exciting artists (who ran a gamut of genres) also cleared their collective voices before offering material that has stuck with us here at Tone Madison. They appear on this list as well.
One of the most common refrains from local artists we’ve talked with over the past few years—both on record and in casual conversation—is a desire for a greater emphasis on multi-genre collaboration (for both shows and general link-ups). Artists here are fully aware that there’s not just one area of music where Madisonians are excelling, but a multitude. Over 2024’s 12 months, input from both our editors and our freelancers bore out that underlining truth, resulting in a varied consensus of favorites. Trimming those favorites down wasn’t easy, but our picks here are reflective of the ongoing versatility of Madison music.
All of the selections contained herein wound up being inspiring, in one way or another. Truly singular artistic visions populated records from solo acts, duos, and bands with three members or more. As of this writing, no other Madison outlet has run a list compiling their local favorites from the past year. Often, Tone Madison is the only publication that bothers with it at all. Madison musicians deserve more than to be met with silence on that particular front. If we can continue to right that wrong, we will do so with an extremely pointed gusto.
It’s always a thrill to revisit excellent material, and we hope you’ll join us in appreciating some of the Madison records that shone brightest for us in 2024. —Steven Spoerl
Dad Bods, Powerbelly
Dad Bods‘ first full-length is a searing reminder of the hardcore duo’s voracious tenacity. Bassist/vocalist Sean Horvath and drummer Chris Flowers constitute one of the more wild-eyed punk projects in Madison, and Powerbelly‘s seven tracks lay that bare. Chaotic power drumming and scuzzy, melodic bass lines propel Powerbelly forward with aggressive conviction. Only the closer—”Tribal Shit“—exceeds the three-minute mark. Over that final six-minute stretch, Dad Bods reveal a head-turning ambition that’s all the more appealing coming from a project that revels in the unhinged. Post-rock, ambient, hardcore, and a masterful command of dynamics combine for a startling effect that’s enough to leave listeners reeling. It’s a knockout blow from Dad Bods and tees up an enticing future. —Steven Spoerl
DLO The Iceman, SmoothAF: Vol. 1
Bradley Thomas‘ latest run of instrumental hip-hop under the DLO The Iceman moniker, SmoothAF Vol. 1, is a powerful encapsulation of his artistry. SmoothAF flies by, clocking in at just under 13 minutes. But Thomas maximizes the impact of the seven tracks here with a steady hand, coaxing out a steadily suave vibe. “Mellow Vibes,” the collection’s closer, proves an apt title, not just for the song, but for the record as a whole. SmoothAF‘s core appeal lies in its inherent comfort; listeners will be more than willing to wrap themselves in its rich luxuries.
An audio pull of DJ Jazzy Jeff’s impassioned advice sets the tone of SmoothAF‘s first volume: “I’ve always said, listen, you will never put out all the music you make in your lifetime, so this is what you need to do: sell some. Give the rest away. Die empty.” Thomas moves forward from that point with conviction. The introductory speech doubles as a clarion call, and Thomas demonstrates he’s more than up to the task of upholding its message, unloading some of the finest beat work of an impressive, still-evolving career. —SS
Celebrity Sighting, …They’re Just Like Us
There is no way to get around Celebrity Sighting’s …They’re Just Like Us without talking about precedence. In late 2024, the long-running, sugar-spiked indie-punk project Proud Parents called it quits. One of the band’s three core songwriters—guitarist/vocalist Tyler Fassnacht—had been making similarly blisseed-out indie-punk via his Baby Tyler side project, before expanding it into a full band and taking a turn towards hardcore.
Fassnacht’s latest project, Celebrity Sighting, comes as a course-corrective to ensure a natural successor to Proud Parents. But he largely cedes the spotlight to his partner, vocalist Danielle Tucci, who proves convincingly able to take that metaphorical torch forward at a full sprint. (On record, the band’s a duo; live, they’re a quintet.) Tucci’s own artistic sensibilities help Celebrity Sighting feel distinct, if somewhat familiar. The sneering, muddy crunch of the frenzied outro of “Survival” that carries through to “Are You Insured?” make it clear that Celebrity Sighting is their own thing, and that the band’s off to a sterling start. —SS
Dylan Bryne, The Meat That Made Sheboygan Famous
In the most complimentary terms imaginable: Dylan Bryne’s warped The Meat That Made Sheboygan Famous is the most batshit Madison-based release of 2024. When Wesley Willis immediately comes to mind as a reference point, it’s hard not to be on board. Bryne’s acerbic lyrics, insistent drum programming, biting vocal delivery, and distorted instrumentation all congeal into a delirious—and surprisingly pointed—head-turner.
Meat flirts with industrial, electro-pop, post-punk, and an ever-so-subtle disco influence, providing a fascinating backdrop for Bryne’s no-holds-barred lyrical outpourings. “Everyone will laugh at your small pee-pee / Your esoteric black sun teutonic dick / And no one will ask you to prom,” snarls Bryne on “Staubsauger (Fascist Twerp).” It’s one of many blackly comic highlights from a record that makes the absolute most of its 11-minute runtime. Which makes starting it all over again feel like the most natural conclusion. —SS
John Christensen, Soft Rock
The softness of bassist John Christensen‘s second album as a bandleader comes not from sugarcoating, but from the genuine buoyancy of his compositions. Gentleness and contemplation always form the core, even when the tempo is brisk. The five musicians on Soft Rock have spent a lot of time playing with each other in various configurations, and bring joyful clarity of the arrangements.
“Impossible Happy” finds saxophonist (and now-former Madisonian) Tony Barba, guitarist Matt Gold, and pianist Joshua Catania creating elegant melodic threads, then branching off, with remarkable fluidity. Drummer Neil Hemphill knows just how to flex through Christensen’s shifting blends of jazz and rock rhythms—from the punchy cascade of “The Loudest Whisper” to the slow, euphoric ascent of “I Am Free.” The bass playing itself is a highlight—steadfast, warm, richly present from note to note—but no one is rushing or showing off here. The players are taking the time to breathe, together, through one radiant moment after another. —Scott Gordon
Leslie Damaso, SIRENA
Multihyphenate Leslie Damaso‘s SIRENA was one of the more striking multimedia experiences to come out of the greater Madison area in recent memory. A sprawling fable enriched by Damaso’s Filipino heritage, SIRENA draws from history to aid its flourishes of the supernatural. Whether Damaso is expounding on a love triangle between a mermaid, the sun, and the moon, or exploring national collapse and subsequent social restructuring, the album’s narrative structures cut through and leave a mark.
Those narratives are buoyed by superlative performances from the members of Mr. Chair (Ben Ferris, Jason Kutz, and Mike Koszeski), violinist Janice Lee, saxophonist Jon Irabagon, guitarist José Guzmán, and Damaso herself (on vocals and kulintang, a kettle gong instrument with cultural significane). SIRENA‘s compositions are extraordinary. A woven tapestry of wide-reaching influences, the ensuing mix of sounds is hard to define. When pressed to identify what genre SIRENA fell under, Damaso offered a thrillingly wry “Does it really matter?” It absolutely doesn’t. What does is that Damaso and her collaborators have crafted a bold, dizzyingly mesmeric work of art that deserves to be celebrated for years to come. —SS
Excuse Me, Who Are You?, Double Bind
On Double Bind, the emo-laden punk act Excuse Me, Who Are You? (EMWAY?) stake an inarguable claim as one of the genre’s local leaders. An exhilarating eight tracks back that up with an emphatic tenacity. Math-rock elements, barbed-wire guitar tones, and a mountain of low-end throttle provide a strong base for vocalist Kyle Kinney to scream his heart out. Named after—and heavily influenced by—the groundbreaking animated film Perfect Blue (a show within the film is titled Double Bind), EMWAY?’s latest ably showcases the quartet’s growing ambition.
Each track on Double Bind brings something of value to the fore, whether that comes by way of playing, lyrical narrative, or both. “If I’m dead / Let me rest / Bury me with all my friends,” screams Kinney in the album’s powerful closing track, “Let’s End All Of This.” Shortly after, he closes the album, with a curt, pent-up, and hard-earned “Fuck you” delivered to a seemingly indifferent cosmos. —SS
Flame The Ruler, The Wrath Of Flame
Local hip-hop label No Disguise Music has been quietly and consistently pumping out high-quality records for years, with label head Flame The Ruler often at the forefront. The Wrath Of Flame, the emcee’s latest, is a new gold standard. Whether he’s dabbling in motivational calls to action (“Up“), sensual R&B (“Jaded“), aggressive determination (“Right Foot Left“), or variant combinations of the three (every single song here), Wrath remains riveting. “Spit the shit that have ’em scared / Like a gun out / Be careful with your time / ‘Cuz it runs out,” snaps Flame on “Seasons,” which features fellow local emcee and educator Rob Dz. By the time he winds things down with “Build,” Wrath has left a series of burn marks. Tastefully blown-out production (which takes beat-making cues from both American coasts), solid singing, and stellar rapping continue to position Flame as one of Madison’s better-kept musical secrets. —SS
Frozen Charlotte, Monstrous Femme
There simply isn’t anyone in the local music scene exhibiting Sigra DeWeese’s level of creativity, which is something we’ve been emphasizing year after year. Her latest project, Frozen Charlotte—named after the porcelain 19th-century doll—refines the darkly compelling eccentricities that the coloratura soprano has honed since at least 2020. On Monstrous Femme, Sigra and her collaborators Riley Rentfro, Elliot Jewell, and Quintin Bovre pack a surfeit of experimental techniques and songwriting into a mere 16 minutes.
Opener “Peignoir” begins its ill-fated tale with gorgeously swarming ethereal-wave vocals before morphing into an immemorial anthem for all the Rasputina devotees. DeWeese’s anti-heroine then finds her mantra of biblical vengeance: “God made Eve from the rib of Adam / I’m just taking back what’s mine.” Centerpiece “Obelisk” is even more indefinably striking on the surface. As DeWeese gutturally murmurs and distortedly sings about power dynamics, the song mirrors her lyrics in the erratic shifts in tempo. The following (and semi-synonymous) “Cenotaph” is a steadier and more introspective riff on slowcore that also tributes the nocturnal balladry of Miranda Sex Garden.
And all this doesn’t even account for the inspirations of the EP’s driving, gothic post-punk singles, “Saving Grace” and “Gunne Sax,” which capture the wiry versatility of DeWeese’s bass playing. —Grant Phipps
I.X.XI, Not Enough To Survive
Few albums released in 2024 felt as emotionally fraught—or as truly meaningful—as I.X.XI‘s Not Enough To Survive, which memorializes project mastermind John Freriks’ late sister, Erin. In 2011, Erin died from a pulmonary embolism, and the loss left a crater. “If I had made other choices in life, or not gotten the mental health care I needed, I may have decided that I wasn’t worthy of surviving,” Freriks wrote in a deeply personal Facebook note accompanying the album’s release. Not Enough To Survive was released on the 13th anniversary of his sister’s death, and five years after he unveiled the demo of the album’s title track.
The death-industrial-heavy Not Enough To Survive is clearly a labor of love. Freriks’ intention is felt across every second. Many tracks on the album take hairpin turns, going from warmly empathetic to coldly harsh in a matter of moments. It’s a jarring effect when taken as a cumulative whole, occasionally bordering on overwhelming. In the bursts of static that punctuate “Don’t,” anyone who has experienced the numbness of grief will immediately find familiarity. Time collapses in on itself, and basic functions lose their meaning. Everything flies by with a purpose that feels foreign.
Not Enough To Survive conveys those feelings of personal removal—and the intrusive shrapnel—with acute awareness. It will likely be difficult for someone who has experienced the death of a close friend or family member to listen to the record and not be plunged back into the depths of wading through that loss. But Freriks also creates an artistic monument that makes a key concession: pushing through tragedy can create profound meaning that makes pushing forward feel worthwhile. —SS
Kat And The Hurricane, Got It Out
Kat And The Hurricane swing for the fences on Got It Out, and connect with conviction. A string of radio-ready singles teased Got It Out‘s arrival earlier in 2024, each suggesting the album would sound absolutely massive. Kat And The Hurricane make good on that promise across 10 seismic bursts of hooky, synth-heavy pop/rock. Opener “Therapy” weaponizes an irrefutably sticky melody, stadium-minded songwriting, and a welcome bit of crunch.
Guitarist Kat Rhapsody, keys player Benjamin Rose, and drummer Alex Nelson all commit to these recordings with a fervor that suggests their lives are on the line. Each core member contributes vocals to Got It Out, and the band is backed in spots by a supporting cast who help elevate the material: Aaron Metz (bass), Mega Omega (bass and vocals), Candace Griffin (vocals), and Matt LaPlant (guitar).
Bombast and catharsis reign supreme on the fittingly-titled Got It Out. Whether the band’s grappling with various forms of repression, emotional turmoil, or the effects of bigotry, they’re doing so with their feet planted firmly in the soil, and their eyes towards a brighter, achievable future. —SS
Keys To The Astral Gate And Mystic Doors, Keys To The Astral Gate And Mystic Doors II
Madison has become home to several heavy psych, stoner-metal, and doom bands (Vanishing Kids, Tubal Cain, Jex Thoth), but few have chosen to revel in the lo-fi fuzz of classic Scandinavian black metal. Enter: Keys To The Astral Gates And Mystic Doors, the duo of Pit Dweller (guitars, drum programming) and Ludwig the Bloodsucker (vocals, synth). Their July 2023 self-titled demo EP exhibited both members in striking black-and-white corpse paint à la ’90s Darkthrone. The necromantic dimensions of this album art distinctly complemented the tremolo-picked guitar-noise walls emanating from what sounded like a haunted tapedeck.
Last January, Astral Gates And Mystic Doors returned with a second handful of demos. The raw aesthetic they established on the first release persisted, while the duo further assimilated the melodicism of “blackgaze” that bands like Alcest and Deafheaven popularized in the 2010s. The stirring title of standout track, “What Is The Glimmer ‘Top The Looming Castle Bell,” curiously evokes the grandeur of fantasy landscapes. And yet, its upfront, loudly mixed electric guitar lick calls to mind something more grounded in our own ecologically strife-stricken reality that modern black metal bands have been sonically articulating. But this record isn’t without its abyssal, wintry mysticism either. The smoggy, dark-ambient interlude, “Snowbringer’s Spell,” culminates its wish fulfillment with field-recorded sounds of shoes crunching down through dense layers of ice and snow. —GP
Loveblaster, The Way Things Work
A gorgeous, slow, stretching album. Loveblaster‘s first full-length is chock-full of minimal, simple playing and beautiful vocal harmonies from all three members (Guitarist Marley Van Raalte, drummer/pianist Abby Self, and bassist Neal Jochmann). The sung lines don’t always have to have any instrumentation behind them at all. Words hang stark in the air. Strings vibrate until they stop on their own. This album forces you to breathe slower, to attend closer. The stanzas simmer. Little sparkling treasures. The effect is calming, but also cathartic in its quiet way.
The first track, “Halfway,” is a perfect introduction to Loveblaster’s world. The pulse of drum and cymbal enters so slowly under the words, as a barely-noticeable heartbeat. Where other bands would put a bombastic chorus, there is just a whisper: “I think we’re wrong.” Making music this restrained and vulnerable is deceptively hard. On “Without Work“, they remind us that “No love comes without work,” and that it’s “a language with no words.” But what Loveblaster’s conveying is as easy to understand as it is to feel.While there are obvious touchpoints—like the dearly-missed Low—they make the slowcore aesthetic their own. The Way Things Work demands rapt attention, as you have to lean in to hear the next line; any background noise might block out the fact that a cleansing ritual is happening. —Dan Fitch
Lunar Moth, Stranger
Indie-rock trio Lunar Moth have long excelled at finding a perfect balance between bright and heavy. Sugar-rush bubblegrunge (“Cotton Candy“) is presented with as much naturality as metal-tipped rippers (“Rot As You Stand“). Operating largely in the loosely-defined middle-ground of those extremes is the band’s sweet spot, and they’ve never sounded more confident in exploring that terrain than they do on Stranger. More than anything else, Stranger sticks out as a document of a band finding an increasing amount of strength in the power of their own artistic voice.
Guitarist/vocalist Amber Fasula, bassist Mac Felckowski, and drummer Gage Brunes are more in tune with each other’s sensibilities and instincts than ever, powering Stranger forward with a spiky, lockstep intimacy. All three are revving the throttle in Stranger‘s best moments, producing a pedal-to-the-floor urgency that proves contagious. Whip-quick drum fills, mean bass playing, and a tour-de-force frontperson performance from Fasula all get heightened by nimble and wildly effective production work from Brunes. If Lunar Moth keeps up at this rate, it’s hard to imagine they’ll be strangers to anyone for much longer. —SS
Lukie P, Some Golden Dream
Luke Peters‘ latest album as Lukie P, Some Golden Dream, is an elegiac indie-folk reverie that boasts serious bona fides. Jay Som‘s Melina Duterte mixed a portion of the album, and Duterte’s Bachelor bandmate (Palehound‘s El Kempner) was instrumental in sharpening Some Golden Dream‘s rougher edges. Peters credits Kempner’s songwriting class as being crucial to the album’s completion, and implements that instructive expertise with a calm certainty across nine sterling tracks.
From the harmonies that make the last section of “Colfax” pop to the hypnotic finger-picking of “Images” to the ornate keys that brilliantly color the verses of gentle rocker “You Said It Once,” the details of the album feel effective. Of course, the benefit of that is lost when the songwriting isn’t up to par, but Peters’ batch of tunes here hit hard on their own accord as well. Even when stripped to a bare guitar-and-vocals function, Some Golden Dream‘s songs would find purchase, hitting a battery of pleasure centers for listeners. Peters’ latest artistic leap forward deserves permanent residence in the digital libraries of anyone with an interest in the indie-folk genre. —SS
The Stolen Sea, Blanket Songs-Spirit Stories
John Hitchcock—The Stolen Sea‘s guitar and lap steel player, whose “Blanket Songs” art project incorporates prints, textiles, video elements, and this album—tells stories from his life, as well as tales from some of his indigenous grandparents, on Blanket Songs-Spirit Stories. The Stolen Sea’s five-piece ensemble provides the musical glue behind the storytelling.
The cinematic music blends to the tales closely, even providing Foley-like sound effects at times. “If you ever hear a spirit follow you, just keep on walking,” Hitchcock says near the end of “Blanket Songs: Nunapi By The Tree,” and the band plays a beautiful, chaotic building crescendo to bring the spirits to life. Everyone involved plays all kinds of different instruments as the tales are spun, and the melodies are just as likely to transport as the stories. The drumming often sounds like it’s on the other side of a valley, trading signals with the synths, while the cello and guitar intertwine right in front of your ears.
(It should be noted that The Stolen Sea released a prodigious amount of music this year; while we picked this as the highlight, there are several more albums worth your time, as well as the more experimental Medlén duo’s release of soundscapes.) —DF
The Spine Stealers, If The Sky Falls, Beyond The Sidewalks
“Ask to bum a cigarette / You’d be mad I haven’t quit them yet / But the burn’s all I have left,” sings Emma O’Shea in the middle of The Spine Stealers‘ “Quiting.” The line exemplifies the appeal of the indie-folk duo’s narrative sensibilities—rife with world-weary charm and clever turns-of-phrase—while serving as a strong showcase for O’Shea’s commanding mezzo-soprano. Kate Ruland’s exceedingly tasteful lead guitar lines and naturally complementary vocal harmonies provide a pitch-perfect counterpart to O’Shea’s contributions.
On If The Sky Falls, Beyond The Sidewalks the duo continue to expand the scope of their music, shifting between pared-down (mostly) acoustic minimalism and a sensibly modest full-band setup. Each track comes across as welcomingly familiar, a quality inherent to the best folk music throughout the genre’s history. Whiskey, Wisconsin, and heartache emerge as popular touchpoints over the course of If The Sky, scoring a few more points on the familiarity front. But with each instance and invocation, O’Shea and Ruland present those moments with a grace that feels lived-in, and worth returning to, just one more time. —SS
The Stoplights, Nighthawks
“Waiting On Something Good” opens The Stoplights‘ Nighthawks with a legitimately arresting tenderness. From the rolling and immediately pleasing piano figure to project mastermind Ryan Liam‘s soulful baritone, the collective impact is enough to stop listeners in their tracks. “Waiting on the heads-of-state / To roll up in a hearse / Waiting for the world / To stop spinning in reverse,” opines Liam towards the start of the track. It’s startling, it’s beautiful, and it’s delivered with a deeply-felt honesty that resonates.
“Waiting On Something Good” kicks off a run of strikingly beautiful piano-and-vocals work strong enough to make the Rufus Wainwrights of the world blush. No song on Nighthawks exceeds the 2:20 mark, yet every single one feels so profoundly complete that runtimes that short feel next to impossible. Which, in turn, makes the effect of small moments—like the staccato section of “Keep Holding On“—all the more remarkable. It takes a truly gifted musician to craft moments that hit that hard in such small contexts. Liam’s one of them, and—as Nighthawks proves beyond a shadow of a doubt—so much more. —SS
Anders Svanoe, ASTRO Eclipse: State Of The Baritone Volume 6
Anders Svanoe‘s State Of The Baritone series is a conversation about the saxophonist’s instrument of choice. It expands to town-hall proportions on volume six, with the dozen-strong ASTRO ensemble. True to the playful sprawl of ASTRO’s 2023-24 residency at Café Coda, Eclipse begins with free-jazz dissonance (“Klokka Er Fem“) and ends with blistering surf-rock (“Memories“). Svanoe’s sax, Louka Patenaude‘s guitar, and Geoff Brady‘s vibraphone play like the voices of three bereaved friends trading remembrances on “For Richard Davis,” whose complexity honors the vast legacy of a great musician.
“Ghosts” builds to a stately boil that manages to showcase almost everybody at once—bassists Henry Boehm and Brad Townsend, drummers Michael Brenneis and Nick Zielinski, trumpeter Jim Doherty and saxophonists Pawan Benjamin, Tony Catania, Ole Bergsgaard, and Svanoe—pausing for a delightfully strange guitar break from Patenaude. Svanoe composes for this ensemble with both ambition and humility—an awareness that everyone involved has something vital to say. —SG
Wonderporium, Two Impromptus
Tom Curry, Jason Kutz, and Noah Gilfillan united under the Wonderporium moniker to create Two Impromptus, one of the most improbably moving ambient records in recent memory. (True both locally and nationally, to my ears.) Formed partially as a byproduct of Kutz’s 23 Concerts series, the trio—with a light assist from Dave Alcorn on percussion—burrows into measured improvisation. A short statement on the album’s Bandcamp page touts the album as being “cinematic” and evoking “barren midwest tundras, fire-lit parlors, mountainside temples, [and] abandoned Cold War radar stations.” For once, an included album assessment feels eerily accurate.
There are a number of potential scenes nestled into Two Impromptus‘ sprawling string of musical vignettes. All of those feel disquietingly specific relative to Two Impromptus‘ 12 segmented passages (neatly split into two core movements, or “Impomptus”). Kutz’s piano plinking, Gilfillan’s keys and percussion work, and Curry’s tuba contributions all flit around Wonderporium’s slow-burning fire in knowing harmony. Each of the three layer on effects work throughout Two Impromptus, resulting in a record that’s full of innate emotion and artistic heft. —SS