It’s January here at Do You Know What I Love The Most?, and that means it’s time to sum up the last 12 months with Year End Lists! I’ll be devoting the rest of this month to rounding up and discussing the various media released in 2022 that meant the most to me — just like every other website on the internet! Isn’t that special?
Today it’s time to bring 2022’s festivities to a close with my favorite list of all: my top albums of the year! As always, this list is subjective, based on my own taste in music and off of the 56 new releases I sampled this year; if you want something a bit more expansive or objective, I get it, but I like what I like and that’s pretty much that. As is tradition now, I’m not numbering my choices, but you can assume that the further you get down the list, the more I like the album, and the final entry will be my favorite album of the year, but otherwise, the order is more like a general suggestion of quality rather than a hard and fast rule. Two albums right next to each other aren’t necessarily better or worse than the other — in fact, a good 2/3rds of this list are all just about neck-and-neck in my esteem, with their order mostly arbitrary.
Anyway, that’s enough rambling from me. Hope you can find something here to enjoy, cause I love these records — seriously, writing about them here actually made me love them even more than before. 2022 was a great year for music.
Mom Jeans — Sweet Tooth
I didn’t — and still don’t — know much about Mom Jeans. I listened to a couple of their early songs a few years ago and was immediately met by twinkly guitar and silly, pop-culture filled song names, a decidedly young-leaning entry into the Midwest Emo Revival canon — wasn’t my cup of tea, but good for them. Early in 2022, though, a friend frantically texted me telling me to check out Sweet Tooth, and god was he ever right — Sweet Tooth sounds closer to Motion City Soundtrack than American Football, and that’s so fucking exciting to me specifically. I’ve always been an absolute sucker for candid, depressing lyrics matched with the most upbeat, poppy music possible, and Sweet Tooth has that in abundance. Its high energy is positively infectious, and singer Eric Butler has a unique voice for the scene, one that manages to pack in some of the stereotypical emo whininess but also a weird kind of sideways twang; it’s kind of fascinating to me, to be honest. Sure, Sweet Tooth is a little front-loaded, and the “sweet” theme running throughout the record is a bit strained at times, but it doesn't stop this record from being a delightful surprise, and one I’ve returned to consistently throughout the year.
Highlights: What’s Up?, Hippo In The Water, Anime Theme Song
Knuckle Puck — Disposable Life (EP)
Actually, Knuckle Puck is another band I’m just now checking out relatively late in their career. Somehow I’d just never gotten around to it, but I was in the wrong there, because Disposable Life is everything I’m looking for in pop-punk. These five tracks are all high energy from the get-go and all build up to these soaring, catchy-as-hell choruses that worm their way into your head and refuse to leave. Singer Joe Taylor’s voice is striking and piercing, always pushed to the front of the mix on these tracks and more than capable of carrying these songs with its sheer power. I have serious respect for Knuckle Puck for covering one of blink-182’s more obscure tracks on Disposable Life as well, especially since it’s a song I’ve always liked, and they knock it out of the park. Pop-punk isn’t a genre that demands reinvention; bands just need to excel at the basics to really shine, and Knuckle Puck has that more than covered.
Highlights: Lonely Island, Gasoline
Cheekface — Too Much to Ask
Cheekface might be one of the hardest working bands in the scene right now. Too Much to Ask comes just a year after their 2021 sophomore effort Emphatically No, and while I do slightly prefer No, its really just a matter of personal taste; Too Much to Ask is as good as anything Cheekface’s ever done, with the band not at all sacrificing quality for quantity. Once again Cheekface has created a record jam-packed with upbeat bangers, and delightfully silly lyrics delivered in delightfully sincere deadpan. There’s always a degree of truth in even the silliest of Cheekface’s lyrics, though, truth that helps shine a light on the foibles of human existence or the societal or political issues we face as a species, but always in a way that helps us find the humor in them, or at least gives us a chance to laugh about our problems together rather than alone. A friend of mine who recently saw Cheekface for the first time described them as “The Wiggles for adults,” and that special kind of playful, communal energy shines through loud and clear not just in their lives shows, but in their records as well. Cheekface always puts a big ol’ smile on my (cheek)face.
Highlights: You Always Wanna Bomb the Middle East, Election Day, Featured Singer
The Early November — Twenty
Twenty is a record of pure fan service, a celebration of The Early November’s surviving as a band for two full decades, and that makes it a blast for long time fans and newbies alike. Die-hards will be excited to see long-awaited milestones, like the first official recording of “Pretty Pretty,” a re-imagined, full band version of “Make It Happen,” or a re-mastered, official vinyl release of Bonus Track “Five Years.” Newbies, meanwhile, can enjoy a band at the top of their game, throwing out some of their most crowd-pleasing tracks full of rock star energy and, of course, anchored by Ace Enders’ phenomenal voice. Seriously, Ace can belt notes out like nobody else in the scene, and there’s something even about his delivery and cadence that is so unique and interesting, capable of saving weaker tracks (like “5AM on Sunday,” a strange quasi-rap ode to hustle culture that reminds you that, oh yeah, Ace has a day-trading podcast), while helping the strongest fly even higher. Twenty is a triumphant record, a testament to the perseverance and “follow your dreams no matter what” attitude that has kept the Early November alive even through tumultuous times, and those themes make the record soar.
Highlights: Make It Happen, Five Years, My Own Dialogue
JER — Bothered/Unbothered
Bothered/Unbothered is the first full-length solo release from Jeremy Hunter, but they pack collective decades worth of experience into this record: Bothered/Unbothered is the ultimate result of JER’s years performing ska covers as Skatoon Network, playing brass instruments in college marching bands, touring with We Are The Union, battling internet edgelords on their Twitter and Instagram accounts, and just living in America as a queer person of color and processing everything that entails. This makes Bothered/Unbothered an incredibly confident debut, its high energy guitar, keys, and horns matched by JER’s sheer passion in calling out their nay-sayers, advocating for change, and hashing out the discrimination they’ve faced throughout their time in the scene. True to the its name, though, Bothered/Unbothered is a record that follows an arc, shedding its anger and growing more and more hopeful as it goes along, and it’s a delight to follow that progress along with JER. This really is such a confident record — debut or otherwise — so fun and danceable, intelligent and incisive, and infectiously passionate. Don’t pass it up.
Highlights: Cold Truth, Clout Chasers!, Nobody Can Dull My Sparkle
Pkew Pkew Pkew — Open Bar
Back in 2019, Pkew Pkew Pkew’s sophomore release Optimal Lifestyles asked if the boys were still content to be represented by the fun-loving, hard-drinking party guy persona they’d built their entire career on up to that point — and, ultimately, the answer was a resounding yes. With that question settled, Open Bar exists thoroughly in the present, returning to the big riffs and even bigger gang vocals that defined their earliest efforts — and goddamn is it fun. Don’t let that fool you, though; Pkew Pkew Pkew’s songwriting is as interesting as ever. Their songs are rarely as confessional as their peers’ throughout the scene, yet they often feel just as personal due to their specific, distinct points of view; somehow I can see myself in tracks about skipping work to watch a new Pope be announced, struggling to eat something other than junk food, or a one-sided relationship with a demanding feline. Pkew also consistently addresses class in a matter-of-fact manner I rarely see from their peers, and from a variety of perspectives at that: “Young Pro” is incredibly proud of the narrator’s Blue Collar work ethic, while “Maybe Someday” explores the way a relationship can crumple when pushed forward too quickly due to financial concerns. I just love this band and this record so much — they never fail to get me pumped, but there’s real brains hidden behind their frat boy persona.
Highlights: Fresh Pope, Maybe Someday, Drinking in the Park
Martha — Please Don't Take Me Back
It’s been a rough few years for, well, the entire world — but somehow, England’s had it rougher than most, what with Brexit, an especially bad financial downturn, and the recent wave of virulent homo and transphobia rippling across the nation. Please Don’t Take Me Back finds Martha addressing these concerns head on. Where do you find hope in a climate like this? How do you deal with the anxiety it causes? Hell, if that wasn’t enough, the title track is also a vital reminder to not romanticize the past, that it wasn’t as good as we remember; current events are just causing us to reach for those rose-colored glasses. If that sounds a bit grim, well, yeah, Please Don’t Take Me Back is just a tad more somber than Martha’s previous records — but that doesn’t stop it from being a joy to listen to nonetheless, as each track is still full of jangly guitar, peppy, upbeat rhythms, and terrific harmonies. They still have such a way with words: “Being good is good, but getting better is much harder,” and “You can’t have a good time all of the time” practically become mantras on this record, and rightfully so, as they’re catchy, concise, and insightful. Most importantly, Martha’s trademark empathy is present in each and every track; Please Don’t Take Me Back doesn’t have any answers for solving our present-day crises, but it does remind us that the best way to survive them is by sticking together and supporting one another, and that’s so incredibly important.
Highlights: Please Don’t Take Me Back, Neon Lung, Baby, Does Your Heart Sink?
Camp Trash — The Long Way, The Slow Way
Camp Trash is a bit of a miracle, a new band that plays with the energy and ambition of teenagers just entering the scene, yet writes lyrics with the hard-earned experience and insight that only comes with age, from having made it out of their twenties alive. There’s a world-weary grumpiness to much of The Long Way, The Slow Way that’s often fun and endearing, such as when they’re telling nosy interlopers to mind their own or complaining about “fucking Florida,” but which then gives way to real pain and frustration, a real yearning for connection and understanding (“I only assumed you understood/I’m not sad/I’m just quiet sometimes”). Camp Trash never loses this bite, but it’s fascinating to watch their lyrics nonetheless soften as the album proceeds, with its back-half diving head-first into hope, small victories, and even a full-on love song in the form of the touching closing track “Feel Something” (“The moment you feel inspired/is the moment I feel something too”). “Soft” may just be the turning point, where the narrator laments that they’ve become hard to love but expresses a real desire to change, hope that things will get better if they keep going, if they just stay soft. That desire to be soft even when you feel prickly is the fulcrum this entire record rests upon, and it’s a fascinating perspective that elevates The Long Way, The Slow Way above so many of its peers. It’s a confident, complex debut that never shies away from thorny emotional truths even as it blazes ahead with anthemic sing-along choruses and shredding guitar solos, because if there’s anything Camp Trash seems to love, it’s packing contradictory tones and emotions into one complete, fulfilling package.
Highlights: Mind Yr Own, Soft, Church Bells
Joyce Manor — 40oz. to Fresno
Joyce Manor has been around for well over a decade now, and over that time their sound has changed and evolved drastically. They’re almost a different band with every release (or in the case of 2018’s Million Dollars to Kill Me, they’re practically a different band on every track) — so what makes 40oz. to Fresno so impressive is that it’s somehow a cohesive synthesis of everything that’s come before, an ultimate Joyce Manor Voltron that marries the slicker production and more mature songwriting of Manor’s later releases with the more high-energy, high-speed vibe of their early work to create something that sounds new for them, but is also unmistakably, undeniably Joyce Manor in a way their last few albums hadn’t always been. Fresno’s nine tracks come in at just over 16 minutes, yet it somehow feels much longer, with each track just a little different, all memorable in their own way, packed with layers and layers of crunchy guitar, bouncy bass, and inscrutable lyrics to sift through; all together it makes Fresno an addictive album that can withstand countless listens on repeat without wearing out its welcome. Seriously, I’m still finding new things to appreciate about this record, months after its release and dozens of listens in. I’m going to wager a guess that we’ll be looking back and comparing all future Joyce Manor release to this one for quite some time.
Highlights: Dance With Me, Gotta Let It Go, Don’t Try
The Wonder Years — The Hum Goes On Forever
One of the very best things about the Wonder Years is that they’re a band who have grown up alongside their listeners, and they never forget their history. The Hum Goes On Forever checks in on the Wonder Years as full grown family men who have just survived a pandemic, and details the way this new stage of their lives has affected the themes that have run throughout the band’s entire career. The record’s title is a reference to singer/songwriter Dan Campbell’s struggle with depression and the fact that it’s still as loud as ever, despite over a decade of albums detailing his attempts to overcome it, records that have given legions of fans the conviction they needed to fight their own battles. Becoming a parent has only made Campbell’s depression and anxiety worse, and that struggle forms the thematic backbone of the album; Campbell’s terrified of the world he’s passing along to his children, terrified that they’ll take his depression personally or, worse, inherit “the devil in his bloodstream” themselves, but having a family also, ultimately, means that Campbell has more reason and inspiration than ever be brave and fight. “Low Tide” may very well be the low point of Campbell’s journey throughout the record, a potent reminder of the fear and anxiety that came with the height of the Covid lockdowns; on the flip side, “Wyatt’s Song” is the high point of his journey, an ode to Campbell’s son that’s so goddamn full of love, and that also serves as a direct answer to 2013’s “Leaving Through a Screen Door,” a song all about Campbell’s fears surrounding starting a family. Loss has been another constant theme throughout the Wonder Years’ career; “Cardinals II” and “Oldest Daughter” are both direct sequels to earlier songs about the loss of friends, neither of which has a happier ending than the original, but the darkest point this time around is “Songs About Death,” a fucking dirge of a song all about the toll it takes to continually write songs about death — and then have to dredge those feelings up again over and over, night after night, on a stage in front of thousands. Loss, though, can just as easily be flipped to love, something Campbell has always written masterfully about in all its forms; “Summer Clothes” is about the way a simple day with a friend can clear the hum of sadness, while “Laura & the Beehive” is explicitly an anti-song-about-loss, meant to tell Campbell’s grandmother how much he loves her “while [she’s] still here to sing along.” Home is another recurring theme in the Wonder Years’ oeuvre, and “The Paris of Nowhere” is a worthy addition to the canon, an ode to the band’s loveably trashy hometown of Philadelphia and the people who have made it great with their everyday acts of kindness. And while Hum’s songwriting, lyrics, and themes are obviously my favorite part of the record, it’s incredible from a musical standpoint as well; the band’s sound continues to mature, but they also go back to their roots and incorporate harder, faster, and punkier guitar into many of their tracks (no doubt influenced by the “Breakless”/”Out On My Feet” experiment in 2020), and let me tell you, it’s a goddamn rush. This record sounds great, in every way, from front to back. As you can tell by my profuse, effusive gushing, I’m head over heels for The Hum Goes On Forever. It’s not just my favorite record of 2022; I think it’s my favorite record of the last three years.
Highlights: Honestly, every single song on this record is a highlight and it’s almost impossible to pick the best, but if you want my favorites:
Wyatt’s Song (Your Name), You’re The Reason I Don’t Want the World to End, The Paris of Nowhere, Oldest Daughter
Do You Know What I Love the Most’s “Best Of 2022” series:
2022 In Review
2022: A Playlist
Top Comics of 2022 (Part 1)
Top Comics of 2022 (Part 2)
Top Television of 2022 (Part 1)
Top Television of 2022 (Part 2)
Top Movies of 2022 (Part 1)
Top Movies of 2022 (Part 2)
Top Albums of 2022
And for more, check out last year‘s “Best of 2021” series!:
2021: A Playlist
Top 10 Newsletters of 2021
Top Television of 2021
Top Comics of 2021 (Part 1)
Top Comics of 2021 (Part 2)
Top Albums of 2021
As well as our “Best of 2020”!:
Top 10 Newsletters of 2020
Top Television, Podcasts, and Movies of 2020
Top Books and Comics of 2020
Let’s Talk About Substack
2020: A Playlist
Top Albums of 2020
Previous “Top Album” Lists:
ABOUT
“Do You Know What I Love the Most?” is a newsletter from Spencer Irwin about his relationship with the stories he loves. Spencer is an enthusiast and writer from Newark, Delaware, who likes punk rock, comic books, working out, breakfast, and most of all, stories. His previous work appeared on Retcon Punch, One Week One Band, and Crisis on Infinite Chords, and he can be found on Twitter at @ThatSpenceGuy. If you like this newsletter, please subscribe and share with your friends!