The Music That Moved Me in 2018

Not a list of the albums that came out most recently, but of the ones I loved the most

Thomas Jenkins
The Coastline is Quiet
5 min readDec 31, 2018

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Every one of these last few years, at first by accident and later by design, I’ve published some sort of year-end list about the bands and albums I listened to. It’s something I enjoy doing, even if I often struggle to explain just why I found certain works more compelling than others. This year, things are a little different. I listened to roughly the same amount of music that I have before, but I almost entirely neglected to listen to new music.

I still want to write a retrospective piece about the songs, albums, and artists I loved, though. So, instead of the best albums of 2018, here are the albums that moved me the most. With one exception, all of these are from 2017 or earlier, but this list is a good overview of the music I kept playing on my phone and speakers.

Jason Isbell — Southeastern

I’ve written before about how talented Jason Isbell is, and his album that came out in 2017 — The Nashville Sound — was my favorite of last year. Out of all of his music, though, I still think this release is his best. It’s musically diverse, skillfully written, and contains some of the best lyrics that I’ve ever heard.

The way that Isbell sums up both the American South and life in general is what sets him apart from nearly every other songwriter in the country. There’s no pretension in his lyrics, and he skillfully explores topics like loss, love, and hope in ways that are truly unique. I’ve attempted to write about some of his best songs before, so I’ll refrain from repeating myself here, but his music continues to move me in ways that no other artist can.

On a song-by-song basis, Southeastern contains some of his best musical moments “Cover me Up” was probably his best-known song before “If We Were Vampires,” and “Flying Over Water” (my personal favorite of his), “Elephant,” and “Relatively Easy” are all classics as well. Whenever I don’t know what to listen to, I often turn to this album. The music here fits almost any situation or mood.

Manchester Orchestra — Black Mile to the Surface

This album came out last year and it has rarely fallen out of my usual rotation of music. Andy Hull a lyrical mastermind, and the band’s decades of experience build to what is their best album to date. It’s dark, brooding, and sad, and every moment is compelling in some way.

The songs here range across a variety of different topics and musical themes. There are loud, angry songs, quiet, contemplative ones, and motifs of despair and hope that interweave themselves together. This is certainly not an easy album to listen to, but the musical and lyrical expertise make it one of my favorites ever.

I kept coming back to this album because of its maturity. 2018 has been a difficult year for me personally, and many of the feelings I’ve grappled with I find on this album. That doesn’t mean the actual circumstances that crop up in Hull’s lyrics match my own life at all, but rather that there’s an emotional overlap that I find soothing.

Foxing — Nearer My God

I wrote earlier about how much I love the title track off this album, but the entire project is pretty great as well. This is an album that I had to listen through a few times before it sunk in, mostly due to some of the musical choices. The songs often ramble and meander along, and consequently I think this album as a whole could stand to be a few minutes shorter.

Nearer My God makes this list because of the moments when it shines brightest. The title track is magnificent, and other songs — like “Bastardizer” or “Gameshark” — are also compelling. I still need to listen to Foxing’s discography a little more before I will feel that I truly understand their music, and the same goes for this album. At its best moments, though, it’s fantastic in every way.

The National — High Violet

The National as a band is regarded as one of the most talented and consistent indie rock groups in existence. Their last five albums have all been magnificent, and it’s not surprising to see their fans expound on the merits of any single one. Matt Berninger’s distinctive vocals and melancholy lyrics are a staple in their genre, as are Bryan Devendorf’s drumlines.

For some reason, though, High Violet has always been my favorite album from The National’s library. This year, I came back to it again and again. The opening notes of “Terrible Love,” the drumbeats and melodies of “Bloodbuzz Ohio,” and the inescapable sadness of “Sorrow” all register somewhere in my psyche and emotions, and they all remind me both of events this year and the first time I played this album.

As 2018 ends, I’ve been playing through The National’s catalogue again and again. I think I’ve started to take their greatness for granted, and somehow became less impressed with each consistent and beautiful album they released. If nothing else, writing a few lines about High Violet is a reminder of how great this band really is. Even if The National stopped recording today, their library would be one of the best I’ve ever heard.

In some ways, I wish I had sought out more music from this year to write about. Only one of these albums actually came out in the calendar year of 2018, and this is the first time in a few years that I don’t have at least some list of the best new music I’ve been listening to.

But in other ways, I don’t mind missing out on new music. There’s so much value in replaying songs and albums I know I love, and perhaps that’s the best way to end this year. One of the great things about music is that it accompanies my life no matter how I live it. Music doesn’t have to be a stream of new releases that I continually jump into — it can be an old friend that knows me as well as I know myself.

Most of this new music isn’t new, but it’s the music I loved this year. Here’s to 2019.

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