A Year-end List I Didn’t Keep
I’m a big list maker. I write email drafts, iPhone notes, and sometimes even actual pen-to-paper to-dos, excitedly crossing things off and reorganizing them as tasks get completed. I’ve always been like this. It keeps me sane. It keeps me from having to remember things that don’t need to take up space in my head.
Which is why I’m always surprised around this time of year, when everyone starts reflecting on their favorite books, records, movies, and moments, and I realize I haven’t kept track of any of it. No running list. No folder. No note buried in my phone. The most important list is the one I don’t keep at all—digitally, physically, or even consciously. Every December feels like starting from scratch, trusting that whatever I can still remember must have earned its place. Or maybe that’s the point: if it doesn’t come to mind now, it probably didn’t need to.
So this isn’t a definitive list, or even a particularly organized one. It’s just a handful of things from 2025 that stuck—the moments that showed up when I stopped and thought about the year in late December.
I didn’t have a clear favorite album this year. Instead, it was more about songs, which concerns me a little, given that I was raised on albums and work in an album-focused corner of the music business. But when I think about it, that isn’t new. Songs jumped out at me as a kid, and they still do now—musical moments that serve as the entry point or emotional center of an album. These were a few musical moments that stayed with me.
I’d heard the Australian instrumental doom metal duo Divide and Dissolve before, but this live KEXP session gave me a different view of the band. Their music is heavy, but I experience it as meditative, even soothing—not at all how it’s usually described.
Plosivs’ “Death Kicks In” was a late-November entry, released just as the year was winding down. The lead track from the band’s second album immediately reminded me—in the best way—of its contributors: Drive Like Jehu guitarist John Reis, Heavy Vegetable and Pinback mastermind Rob Crow, and Rocket From The Crypt drummer Atom Willard. It’s a heavy, melodic dirge that somehow feels bright, to the point that I catch myself singing it on my own.
Ecca Vandal’s “CRUISING TO SELF SOOTHE” was pure ear candy for me. The song reminds me of Pixies, Turnstile, and other great guitar bands that balance immediacy with edge. I don’t know much yet about the Sri Lankan / South African / Australian artist, but I have a feeling I’ll know a lot more in 2026.
I loved Turnstile’s album Never Enough, but when I think about it now, what really stands out is the breakdown in “Birds.” I’m a sucker for a breakdown—the half-time shift—and this one gets me every time.
And this list wouldn’t feel honest without including PLEASE COME TO ME, an album I released by Masma Dream World. It’s the only music here with no guitars, yet it’s the most intense thing on the list for me. This live WFMU session captures that perfectly.
It felt like a particularly busy year for live music, with so many bands reuniting or continuing to tour. Nine Inch Nails at Brooklyn’s Barclays Center was elegant and powerful—and, most importantly, not too long. Deerhoof, a band I’ve been seeing for nearly 30 years now, somehow never disappoints; if anything, they might be better than ever. The French electronic band Air surprised me with how human and alive their show felt. And I never imagined that 30 years after last seeing them, I’d find myself packed into the Mercury Lounge, singing along to Shudder To Think’s anti-hit “X-French Tee Shirt.”
I’m always fascinated by the guests I get to interview on my podcast, Identified, but my favorite interview of 2025 wasn’t for the show. It was a nearly 90-minute public conversation with Henry Rollins at Versofest in Westport, Connecticut. Rollins answered questions in concise, five-minute bursts that somehow managed to fully respond, tell a story, and entertain a packed room all at once. I’ve never been so nervous beforehand, or so relieved afterward.
I didn’t read a ton this year, and I didn’t see many movies. I’m sure I watched too much TV. But if I collapse all of those forms into one, the best thing I consumed in 2025 was Jad Abumrad’s podcast Fela Kuti: Fear No Man. The ten-episode series has the narrative depth of a great book, the momentum of a thriller, and the immediacy of a great TV show. The way it weaves together music, history, and interviews—old and new—is remarkable. It sounds effortless, which is usually a sign of just how much work went into it.
That’s what comes to mind. I’m sure more memories will surface as soon as I publish this, which feels about right. Maybe that’s enough to carry into 2026.
Happy holidays,
Nabil
My guest on Identified this week is the rapper Cakes Da Killa, who reflects on growing up in Teaneck, New Jersey, raised by his teenage mother and grandmother. He shares openly about the complexities of reconciling with an absent father, discovering inherited traits in unexpected family members, and why chosen family has always played a central role in his life.
My memoir is called My Life in the Sunshine. You can order it here, or listen to the audiobook on Spotify.