Best New Music (4.02.2019)

Billie Eilish
When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?
Dark Pop

Is Billie Eilish an industry plant? That term, "industry plant," is a favorite of displaced music fans that don't like when previously unheard of people become near-instantly famous. Lady Gaga comes to mind. Because these artists didn't spend a decade wallowing in the music underground, known only to obscurists and purists, there must be some kind of conspiracy. That term, "industry plant," is a word that meant something once, but now is just a tagline for trolls to use on anything they hate.

So, is Billie Eilish an industry plant? The point is, if the music is good, does it matter? If Eilish is a plant, then whatever A&R person picked her up should be paid lottery amounts of money every week for life. If Eilish is a plant, then whoever wrote her lyrics (p.s. it's her) should be winning Nobel prizes for literature. Yes, her brother, who writes or co-writes all the music on When We All Fall Asleep, is a well-worn "industry" producer, and certainly nepotism played into him giving Eilish a chance. But the problem is that most nepotists don't stick the landing.

This crew is Mary Lou Retton.

Originally, and for years now, Billie Eilish sounded like one of countless other "dark" "depressed" singer-songwriters: your Lana Del Reys, Lordes, and what have you. However, as Elish's career moved on, her sound became increasingly complex, and the darkness began leaking from her lyrics to her electronics, until eventually we got dark-wave pop masterpieces like "You Should See Me in a Crown" and "Bury a Friend;" songs so brilliant they might define the next generation of pop.

And if we go back to Eilish's lyrics, we can see those have grown more complex as well. Her first songs followed the typical "I'm sad because I'm and artist and no one understands" formula of the aforementioned "depressing" singers. But on When We All Fall Asleep, we get songs like "Bad Guy" that not only stands as an above-average sonic thesis statement for the album, but also transforms a song seemingly about a literal bad guy (i.e., man), into an introspective exploration of the bad part of Eilish's own personality--a metaphorical bad guy. Or the song "Xanny," which uses the tropes of barbiturate drug use in pop and rap to explain why Eilish is leaving her friend group: she's not into drugs, and your overuse of them makes you a boring cliche.

Billie Eilish might be an industry plant, and she might be one in a line of "depressed" singers, but her style (especially visual--seriously watch her music videos), delivery, and utterly unique take on how to present the overtly dismal make her, and When We All Fall Asleep, one to keep an eye on, for sure.

Best New Music (Double Feature! 3.26.2019)

Ibibio Sound Machine

Doko Mien
Highlife

Who is William Onyeabor? The mysterious figure that totally and utterly transformed African pop music in the 70s, and more so the 80s, has had a sort of boom in modern Western music, thanks in part to an insanely bold choice by--eww--Apple to include his song "Fantastic Man" in a commercial. The song became so popular from that alone that it became an actual charted hit...38 years after it came out.

Now, William Onyeabor passed before the song ever made it anywhere, but by all accounts he lived in self-imposed isolation having found an entirely different path in life. But it is fun to think that while we usually think of non-Western countries being decades behind the US/Europe in their musical taste (e.g., disco being popular in...ahem...East Germany in the late 80s and 90s), this time WE were behind, just now finding popular a song from Nigeria decades after the man who wrote it retired from public life.

This is all to say that the journey of where Ibibio Sound Machine derives their incredibly unique sound begins with the inventive and, honestly, insane sounds of an electro-funk master from 70s Nigeria. Of course, even calling the band IBIBIO Sound Machine is detailing their roots, Ibibio being a language spoken primarily in Nigeria, and many of singer Eno Williams' lyrics are in that language.

Over the course of three albums, Ibibio Sound Machine has fine-tuned a musical quality that can only be called a time machine. The highly processed synths repeat like something from Human League and the use of live percussion and "cheap" drum machines recalls the very best of Lipps, Inc. (like, the one song; you know the one I mean).

The band's self-titled debut really laid the effect on thick, which made for a more novel listening experience than a truly compelling one. 2017's Uyai was a revelation, brightening the production and bringing the Onyeabor influences into the harsh fluorescent light. But this album, Doko Mien, this is the culmination of getting all the ingredients to the witch's brew just right.

Doko Mien transitions from Afro-beat to Italo-disco to new wave to electro-funk to soul so fast and so seamlessly that it blisters the skin; all the while Eno Williams sings so beautifully in two languages that you're brought to the heights of human emotion.

The songwriting is catchy and highly complex, leaving no one wanting. Whether they are creating a ballad like "I Know That You're Thinking About Me", a dance floor banger like "Tell Me (Doko Mien)", or even a soundscape interlude like "I Will Run", ISM have clearly put the work in to make sure every detail is exactly right.

It's rare to witness perfection, but when you do, you never forget. This is a band at the peak.

---

Avey Tare
Cows on Hourglass Pond
Neofolk

An admission: I have always been slightly fascinated by the various solo careers from the members of Animal Collective. Obviously, Panda Bear is the one most people are immediately familiar with, as he was the most successful out of the gate. And if we all can't admit to ourselves that Person Pitch was secretly the best album of the 2000s, then we just live in a grand delusion.

Avey Tare (real name: David Michael Portner) is the other member of the Collective to venture into solo territory, though it could be said that's unnecessary since he's the primary songwriter of Animal Collective's output. And with Cows on Hourglass Pond, that connection becomes more obvious than ever.

Much of Cows on Hourglass Pond sounds like Merriweather Post Pavilion and Centipede Hz outtakes and b-sides. These are literally indistinguishable from Animal Collective songs. Even his more experimental turns, like the incredibly glitchy "Nostalgia in Lemonade", are familiar territory. And when it's not Animal Collective he's evoking, there's such a strong Atlas Sound influence that no one could blame you if you mistook this for Logos Part 2.

That said, I feel like this review is skewing negative, when in reality it's anything but. To be honest, I think Atlas Sound owes more to Avey Tare and Animal Collective than the other way around, and to be brutally honest, this is the best thing to come out of that group OR any of the members' solo projects in ten years.

Cows on Hourglass Pond is interesting. For the first time in a long time, Tare is involved with something interesting. The sonic choices, production, songwriting--they're all well above average, and they combine for an album that genuinely intriguing and might not only require multiple listens to "get", but will also make those re-listens enjoyable. It's well-paced, composed, and varied.

I only wish more people would make interesting music.

Best New Music (3.18.2019)

Chai
PUNK
J-Pop

Pop from distant cultures may not be for everyone: it's not in English so you can't really identify with the lyrics, it's mixed high in treble so it sounds louder and more teen-y, and it's often marketed with a bizarre-almost-disturbing childishness with a reliance on cartoons and funny voices. None of those things matter when you listen to Chai's second full-length, PUNK.

That's not to say those things aren't there--of course they are, it's J-Pop--but what Chai does differently is using those tropes for effect, creating a reaction and sending a message that transcends the usual stereotypes of Japan and its pop culture.

While much of PUNK is pure pop, executed and produced to sugar-sweet perfection, where the album truly stands out is when Chai dips into alternative genres. The garage rock of opener "Choose Go!" is performed with as much sincerity as everything else. The dark electro of "Great Job" carries the weight of that sound well, without sounding like a boring copy of a billion other club bangers. And the furious alt-rock of "Fashionista"--half Waitresses, half Sleater-Kinney--proves that if you write great songs, rocking hard knows no language.

Chai aren't worried if writing songs about being yourself, friends as second family, and not caring if some people don't approve of your lifestyle are uncool; as long as you feel empowered, then their job is done, and damn the cool. PUNK isn't the pop we went into 2019 wanting, but it is the pop we need right now.

The Mammoth Task: Album Organization and Its Direct Impact on the Listening Experience

The work may be complete. For years it has bothered, even angered me, that Pearl Jam’s fifth album, Yield, was full of amazing songwriting and some of the greatest moments in their career, but sounded like the songs were just put in as they wrote them, with no regard for theme, sonic transition, or pattern. Let’s look at their original tracklist:

1. Brain of J.
2. Faithful
3. No Way
4. Given to Fly
5. Wishlist
6.  Pilate
7. Do the Evolution
8. Red Dot (called Red Bar on Spotify)
9. MFC
10. Low Light
11. In Hiding
12. Push Me, Pull Me
13. All Those Yesterdays

The biggest obstacle to reorganizing this into a cohesive storyline is the closer “All Those Yesterdays,” which is actually two separate songs with about a minute of silence between them. Originally designed as a “hidden track,” the “Humus” second half of the song isn’t hard to fit anywhere, but the whole song’s epic length (almost 8 minutes) and the garish blank section means that it will be a sore thumb basically anywhere. But let’s set up some rules…

Rule 1: No Deleting Tracks

As much as we might just straight not like a song a band has released, they did, and there’s nothing we can do about it. I despise (and I know I’m not alone in this) the hidden track that is tacked onto the final song of an album. One, it makes that song’s inclusion in any sort of playlist or collection impossible for the standard collector/listener like you and me. Of course, if Pearl Jam wanted to include the main portion of “All Those Yesterdays” on their own Greatest Hits collection, they have the track that they can cut themselves and include wherever and however they like. Alas, we don’t have that capability so it must be dealt with as is. Two, it can ruin the album as a work of art. “All Those Yesterdays” isn’t as egregious as, say, Deftones' “MX” which has nearly 25 minutes of silence, or Beach House’s “Irene” which utterly destroys an otherwise perfect album with a gross “hidden track” addition to what should have been a perfect song. Sadly, we must work with what we have.

Rule 2: Retain as much of the original order as possible

Even in the worst cases of organization, these albums are generally produced and mastered by people whose job it is to do exactly that. Songs are mixed to crossfade into each other, sound effects move from the end of one track to the start of another, and they won’t sound good if they’re split apart. Also, sometimes even the worst offenders do have tracks that just sound good together. In our example today though, such is generally not the case. The only ones I can find are “Faithful” into “No Way” and “Pilate” into “Do the Evolution”. Those are so good together they can’t really be reorganized.

…

So with our rules established, let’s dive deeper into Yield.

Pearl Jam’s fifth album came out in the height of their feud with Ticketmaster (still ongoing, by the way), and after the less-than-warm reception of their previous album No Code, despite that album having their single greatest song, “Hail, Hail.” But, unwavering, the band, and more specifically Eddie Vedder, was determined to push the boundaries of what was now certainly NOT grunge into a more emotionally complex territory. And that...means slow songs.

But gone were the days of soundscape, ethereal slow songs like “Garden” or “Black”, or even the folk-influenced “Daughter” or arena ballad “Betterman.” Instead we have the inclusion of more emo-oriented songs like “Wishlist” and the country/western “Low Light” that use an almost wall-of-sound recording technique to make them feel warmer and more saturated. This bloat will need to be dealt with thematically more so than by sound alone. There simply aren’t enough heavy, fast songs to break them all up. This means forcing the album into an “act” structure.

For Act One, I suggest we start with the slow emotional songs. We can organize them to slowly build the album to a fever pitch, rather than the opposite (slow songs last), which generally makes the second half drag after hyping the audience up in the first half. That said, I do still enjoy the idea of following up fast songs with slower ones. Despite its jarring effect in the opening slot of No Code, after a trio of grunge necessities in Pearl Jam’s first three albums, I really enjoy “Sometimes” as its opener. Let’s see which song provides the best equivalent.

My choice would be “Given to Fly,” as it not only opens acoustically, but also builds to be louder and heavier by the end. Now, “Brain of J.” is a fantastic opening track, but if it’s not in this position, it needs to be in one of equal importance, so, for now we’ll move it to the closing spot. I also, at this point, recommend moving “All Those Yesterdays” to the exact middle. Pearl Jam did us a favor, giving us an odd number of songs so there’s an exact middle spot, the seventh (13 tracks: #7 is the middle with six songs on either side). This way, the minute of silence can feel like a record flip.

As much as I like the idea of the punk “Brain of J.” as the closer, it’s construction and length leaves a bit to be desired, plus it doesn’t really summarize the sonic theme of the album. The song I think does that best is “In Hiding,” which not only builds to an optimistic fullness, but also has an amazing Zeppelin-Houses-of-the-Holy-esque guitar fade-out. Of course that means our act structure of “all slow songs” at the beginning doesn’t really work, because “In Hiding” has to end it, and something slow has to come after “Do the Evolution.”

Let’s revisit that later…

In addition to the bloated carcass that is “All Those Yesterdays,” we also have to contend with the songs that Pearl Jam seemed to neglect in their later discography: the weird shit.

While a lot of people greatly dislike the more experimental tracks from Vs. and Vitalogy (I’m looking at you, “Bugs”), they are an integral part of what Pearl Jam was in their heyday: a group of people with so many influences they needed 70s puffy sleeves to wear them all. This was reflected in their forays into country, classic rock, heavy metal, punk, psych rock, whatever “Bugs” is, and on our subject most importantly, both industrial and primitive noise. The samples and frenetic editing of “Push Me, Pull Me” and the hand-held percussion and chanting of “Red Dot” mean they need to be placed very carefully within the running of Yield in order for their sounds to feel ingrained rather than forced. What’s strange is that this wasn’t the case with the original tracklist.

“Red Dot” is by far the strangest, so it’s only use is to inflate the ego of the band creating it. Well, okay, its other use is as a palate cleanser between two otherwise disjointed songs. Basically, we’re pulling it out and setting it aside for later.

Despite the noisiness of “Push Me, Pull Me,” it's the only characteristic that makes the song stand out, as it does have a very standard song structure; essentially, it’s the chameleon. So, if it’s placed properly, it can be a palate cleanser like “Red Dot,” an emotional arc, a launch pad, or even a great set-up song. Given we have the build of “Given to Fly” opening, let’s put it in the on-deck spot. Then, considering “Faithful” was designed to follow a heavy song, we have our #3 and #4, remembering that “No Way” MUST follow “Faithful.”

...

So we have 1-4 locked in, as well as 7, 12, and 13. We’ll need to look at the sonic theme and more specifically how the remaining songs end from a technical aspect. Do they cut or fade? Do they build to something or is their trajectory generally flat? Are they warm or empty in the mix? Plus, remember, “Pilate” and “Do the Evolution” have to stay together AND “Do the Evolution” has to have a slow song after it.

Right off the bat, because I still like the idea of the first half being more about building, I think “Do the Evolution” should be in the second half, which means “Pilate” must be as well. So we have 8-9 or 9-10. Now we have four songs that are unattached and could technically go anywhere. First let’s find a slow song to go after “Do the Evolution.” Immediately I thought of “Low Light” because not only is it a sonically interesting juxtaposition to hear western-inspired acoustic guitars after the harsh, gritty chug, but it's also a fairly flat song from a musical storytelling perspective (it doesn’t get faster or heavier as it goes along, or build into something different from its start).

Now we have three songs that must be attached and must be in the second half, so they’re either in the 8-10 slot, or the 9-11 slot. I think it would be WAY too jarring to hear “Brain of J.” after “Low Light” so...in comes the palate cleanser, “Red Dot.” So our entire second half is full. Act Two is complete.

…

Only two songs remain and only two slots: “Wishlist” and “MFC.” Oddly, this is the best order for them to stay in, and let me explain. “No Way” is in our #4 slot. It is Pearl Jam’s best attempt at recreating the feeling of Vitalogy’s inimitable “Tremor Christ,” and of course it pales in comparison, but it is a great song on its own. But like “Tremor Christ,” it needs to be followed by a warm, emotional song, meaning “Wishlist” (which may be their biggest eyeroll moment, but remember we can’t delete). So the guitar heavy “MFC” goes in the #6 spot and actually serves as a great transition from “Wishlist” to the first half of “All Those Yesterdays.” And now Act One is complete, as is our reorganized album:

1. Given to Fly
2. Push Me, Pull Me
3. Faithful
4. No Way
5. Wishlist
6. MFC
7. All Those Yesterdays
8. Pilate
9. Do the Evolution
10. Low Light
11. Red Dot
12. Brain of J.
13. In Hiding

...

In summary, in Act One we’ve kicked our album off with a strong thematic statement: emotional struggle; and built around it to lead to a great half-time closer. Act Two begins with it’s own theme: frenetic experimentation, which we’ve followed by including most of the faster, angrier tracks, as well as the most experimental one. Then we ended the album with a closer that seems to summarize a character’s journey through the album, having come out stronger on the other side.

We did this by examining arcs within song structure, production techniques, and most importantly, transitions between songs. A LOT of this is by feel, and everyone experiences music differently. You may listen to Yield in its original form and think it’s perfect. You may think the songs I chose as needing to stick together are terrible together. Music is entirely subjective. I highly recommend you try doing this on your own. Take an album you always thought didn’t FEEL quite right, and mix up the order. Try to get the songs to tell a more cohesive narrative, and listen to the transitions. There’s a lot of great albums out there hiding inside mediocre ones, all they need is a little cleaning up.

…

Also, feel free to listen to our new playthrough of Pearl Jam’s Yield on Spotify, as well as others I’ve tried to improve like Queens of the Stone Age’s Era Vulgaris, Crystal Castles’ Crystal Castles (II), and Drenge’s latest Strange Creatures. Yield was, by a wide margin, the most work I’ve done reorganizing an album for quality. Of course not every album is fixable this way. Like Ice-T says in Rick and Morty, “a bad song’s a bad song” and sometimes it’s just not salvageable. Nothing will fix Corey Feldman’s Angelic 2 the Core...nothing.

Era Vulgaris: Reorganized
Strange Creatures: Reorganized

Best New Music (3.04.2019)

Little Simz
GREY Area
Conscious Hip-Hop

On “Boss,” one of the many standouts from the north London rapper’s new album, GREY Area, Little Simz emphatically states “I disregarded all opinions and continued my mission / Unapologetically I be bossin’ it / Getting better with age / Got it back, never lost it.”

Despite being only 25, Simz (born: Simbi Ajikawo) has been one of the most prolific, most talented, and most underrated pioneers of UK rap. She had released 5 EPs by her 21st birthday, garnering praise from such esteemed artists as Kendrick Lamar and Lauryn Hill. She has collaborated with Gorillaz to critical acclaim, and released a concept album, Stillness in Wonderland, in 2016 to similar reactions in the music press...and yet...no one heard it. While the Kendricks and Joey Bada$$es of the conscious-rap scene were seeing widespread mainstream success, Simz was still waiting for hers.

Not content to just wait however, her new album is fiercely confident and forthright. Her stunning production and smart lyricism is a reminder of her bold talent. Punchy bass and brilliant melodies take you on the rollercoaster ride only Simz could design--vulnerable and open. GREY Area is a heady album that demands the listener’s attention. And Simz’ hard work is all worth it to hear looping beats perfectly match the line “I’m Jay-Z on a bad day / Shakespeare on my worst days.” It’s so good that, by the end of the album, you believe her.

How Little Simz isn’t a massive, monolithic presence in the rap industry by now, I have no idea. Her first two albums were well received and had singles that were ridiculously good, yet somehow she hasn’t connected with a worldwide audience. GREY Area is, hopefully, that big pivotal turning point she needs and deserves. This is the kind of project that the Drakes of the world wish they could get their hand on: brave, energetic, reflective, vulnerable, wise; a gift from a truly gifted artist.

Best New Music (2.26.2018)

Drenge
Strange Creatures
Garage Rock

The easiest way to explain Drenge’s Strange Creatures is to use “When I Look Into Your Eyes,” the closing track, as a microcosm of the entire album. The bones of the song are simple. Even mundane. It’s a basic acoustic strum, a pretty sing-song melody, and a beat anyone could clap. But in the hands of Drenge, it becomes something much more expansive and dramatic.

The drama begins with singer Eoin Loveless’ voice, which has the wonderful ability to move between characters. Here, on “When I Look Into Your Eyes,” he’s singing with a Morrissey-esque sound, background vocals seemingly coming from chanting monks and Loveless’ guitar chiming selectively through the song. “Prom Night,” another ballad, also has an unsettling sound, but in a different way. Here, the fear rises out of a plodding beat and guitars that sound almost like a carnival organ. A saxophone comes out of nowhere and your first thought is, “did they abduct a saxophonist for this?” The saxophone, courtesy of the Loveless’ father, and most probably played of his own free will, also gives the track a very David Bowie kind of feel, which also helps to move the spooky needle.

It would be an oversimplification to say Strange Creatures sounds like an 80s post-punk album, but it’s definitely influenced by the music of that era. What’s nice about the album, though, is that it pours that decade’s hair product onto a head full of rock and roll. The woozy melody paints Eoin as the narrator in a Carrie-esque tale: visions of him lurking in an alleyway, leaning against a doorframe in noirish mode he watches the horrors unfold. “Something stepped out from under the rubble / Whatever it was it was like Halloween,” he sings. As well as the sax, there are touches of synthesizer on “Avalanches” and expansive percussion on closer “When I Look Into Your Eyes” alongside a haunting vocal chant; small additions that add to the overall feeling of fullness on the album.

On Strange Creatures the wrinkles have been ironed out. Quieted is the scrappiness of the to-ing and fro-ing of the guitar and drums during Drenge’s infant stages, instead thick layers of sound rage on. Something Drenge do particularly well is take the sickly sweet and throw it into the mud, adding a twisted element to the quotidian: “Milkshakes make me sick / Lactose intolerant” or “A boy vomits up his canteen dinner in the high-school’s honeysuckle garden.” This album still sounds undeniably Drenge-y, rattling and crashing along like a ramshackle rollercoaster; your only hope is to hold on for dear life.

Best New Music (2.25.2019)

Desperate Journalist
In Search of the Miraculous
Shoegaze

There is a distinct fragility and vitality contained within Desperate Journalist’s musical back catalog. It echoes through their work with a courage that cannot fail to delight and inspire in equal measure. The London quartet's third album, In Search of the Miraculous, borrows its title from the 1949 book of the same name by P. D. Ouspensky about his time with mystic George Gurdjieff, and his system of “self-development.” It more than earns the intellectual and spiritual connection.

In Search of the Miraculous is a work of indisputable artistic maturity entwined with sharply beautiful poetic integrity that current fans will recognize immediately. Perhaps more world-weary in places, the album's overall tone is one of hopeful recognition of the complexities of life and love in all its forms. Stalked by shadowy figures and ruinous politicians, it is as if they have not only captured the sound, but also the tumultuous age of their influences; the gloaming indie goth of The Cure and The Smiths hangs in the air, as does the unshakable shadow of an 80's Britain, ravaged and divided.

In spite of all of this, a restless fervor radiates through the layers of fuzz; a refusal not to be consigned to a predetermined fate, allowing the glint of just enough hope to salve the scarred heart of a country crumbling. At a time when our phone screens are filled with news too heartbreaking to hold, vocalist Jo Bevan seeks solace in the bravery found searching for that sublime feeling. As the transcendental lead guitar line in "Satellites" bores into the rapturous chorus and she sings "I was always reaching for you / Oh listen / You eclipse them," it creates a ground swell worthy of elevating them to another level entirely.

Bevan appreciates it can be easy to become numb to the extremes of emotion for fear of being overcome, and still that is why it is so important to keep fighting your own personal battles. In Search of the Miraculous finds Desperate Journalist striving and challenging themselves, happily searching for that sense of the sublime in a world that will outlive us all.

Best New Music (2.11.2019)

HEALTH
Volume 4 :: Slaves of Fear

HEALTH has been kicking people's butts in with loud electro-rock-noise for over a decade now, and their albums have telegraphed their arc from fully experimental to operatic. Volume 4 :: Slaves of Fear--technically the band's fourth album, but only if you don't include the best game soundtrack of all time, Max Payne 3--is the culmination of that journey, and it requires our full attention.

Just as a fun experiment, instead of a standard narrative review, I'm just going to post my notes from my first listen, unedited, unformatted. I think you'll still get the idea.

• Psychonaut: odd choice of acoustic guitar start then BAM!!! straight into some trio-EP era NIN drums, their own guitars from the Max Payne OST and the upfront lyrics from Death Magic
• Feel Nothing: Love the beat/hook here, this is what you get when perfectly combining dance-pop and industrial rock, I do wish it was used a bit more though, as it seems like they only save it for the intro and outro, could have really beefed up the chorus
• God Botherer: love the title, the chorus here mid-song is some frenetic metal awesomeness that sadly only appears here, easily could see this ending the album
• Black Static: They are really going full Rammstein here
• Loss Deluxe: basically a Death Magic b-side
• NC-17: this has a really cool Deftones-techno sound (see “Teenager” or “Lucky You”)
• The Message: the most consistent beat so far that really well constructed, the darkest the lyrics as well
• Rat Wars: this is a go at the darkest song for the album, like “Dark Enough” from Death Magic, also loving the Blade Runner 2049-esque sample
• Strange Days (1999): first off, the title can’t be anything but an allusion to the Kathryn Bigelow film starring Ralph Fiennes of the same name, Strange Days, which takes place in a fictional 1999; really great beats
• Wrong Bag: probably the most violent song on the album, and unless I was completely glazed over, I’m pretty sure this is the one instrumental song on the album
• Slaves of Fear: title track, been out a while as a single, love it, great intro, kick-ass beats, just all-around fantastic, still the highlight, obvious why they chose it as a single; love the little suite-esque change towards the end, it’s all great
• Decimation: this is very strange, I like it, but it’s very strange, like, it could fit in on that new Xiu Xiu album; gorgeous guitar overlayed with some pretty random noise elements, then this simple but powerful live drum comes in, like, what the hell
• Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed it, but definitely need to let it stew a bit. Right now it seems like it’s definitely inferior to Get Color or Death Magic, but it’s also really different, like when I saw It Comes At Night the first time. Definitely have to revisit later, will require multiple listens
• Second listen, on better headphones...WAY better, love it now

So, TL;DR, it's great. This is the best of all of HEALTH's worlds, where their noise experiments from HEALTH blend with their pop experiments from Death Magic seamlessly to create a glorious wall of industrial-electro-noise-pop, like if Lady Gaga made Twitch.

P.S. Fuck Pitchfork and their surface-only reading of everything

Best New Music (2.08.2019)

Xiu Xiu
Girl with Basket of Fruit

Returning with their first album since 2017, the musical version of a Jodorowsky film, Xiu Xiu. Forget was a spectacular melding of electronic, experimental, and pure pop (see "Tonight"). Girl with Basket of Fruit is not that

it...is...not...that

If eldritch horrors had to pick one album to listen to forever, it would be Girl with Basket of Fruit. If the Eyes Wide Shut cult would modernize and listen to contemporary music, they would play Girl with Basket of Fruit. If Adventure Time's Golb, the personification of discord, came to life and passed into the real world, he would glean inspiration from Girl with Basket of Fruit.

But not to continually focus on the weirdness of Xiu Xiu's experimental leanings. This album, while incredibly disturbing and strange, is also filled with moments of beauty: string sections that harmonize effortlessly; Jamie Stewart's vocal performance on "The Wrong Thing" or "Scisssssssors"; or the entirety of album closer "Normal Love," a song that combines a gorgeously simple piano line with a strangely mesmerizing mimicry of Matthew Dear.

But then there's also...well to describe "Mary Turner Mary Turner" with words would be to imply that it might be comprehended by beings that experience time passively.

And then there's the highlight of Xiu Xiu's entire career to this point, "Pumpkin Attack on Mommy and Daddy." The ridiculous name is actually the most normal part of the entire experiment, a horrifying abrogation of reason replaced with Thrill Kill Cult samples and electronics pulled from Ministry's Wax Trax catalog. It is a glorious monolith of chaos that has to be experienced. But beware, it cannot be un-experienced.

Girl with Basket of Fruit is weird--it's REALLY weird--but it's also the most original, most fascinating thing to come out in quite some time.

I promise I'm not Bird Box-ing you, but that's only because you won't need eyes where we're going.

The Best Albums of 2018: Albums of the Year

The following artists released works that were truly above and beyond in the field of music. These are the people and albums that may define a generation, a time, perhaps a whole decade. No one had better music than our top three artists this year, and after you listen to them, I'm certain you'll agree.

The order of this list was the most I've ever struggled over one of these, so enjoy...

Albums of the Year

3. Janelle
Monáe
Dirty Computer
Pop/R&B : Listen

Janelle Monáe is the most talented, the most interesting, and the most extraordinary person in the universe. But apart from being The Special, she's also really great at writing catchy pop and R&B songs that impart social consciousness, personal empowerment, and self-aggrandizing that comes off as purely earned confidence. She is the only person who could right a song about partying in limousines and make it something you're supposed to learn from. She is a national treasure, and a limitless well of ability that seemingly has no end to its breadth.

Dirty Computer is the first album Monáe has created without putting on a persona, outside of her ever-expanding Metropolis musical universe. And while I was a bit disappointed that we wouldn't see more of the creative pool that spawned "Tightrope," "Cold War," "Primetime," and "Dance Apocalyptic," we did get "Take a Byte," the juiciest beat in the history of beats or juice. We also get an absolutely brilliant collaboration with Grimes on the shade-throwing/girl power anthem "Pynk" --(as an aside, I loved this duo when they teamed up on Grimes' Art Angels single "Venus Fly," and hope they keep it up well into the future)-- and the monster rap of "Django Jane." This is a gift we don't deserve.

Not enough can be said about Monáe's lyricism here, or anywhere really. She deftly and expertly crafts rhymes, raps, and gorgeous ballads with equal relish and every singer everywhere is better for it. "I Like That" is one of the most striking and enlightening looks into Monáe's own backstory--from growing up poor in Atlanta, to her troubles at school--and how she became a badass super queen because of it. And on the previously mentioned "Django Jane" she comes so correct that, somewhere, Big Boi is fainting. She hits her beats so hardcore that you'd think her life actually depended on getting all those thoughts out.

The artistry in songwriting is also incomparable to anyone else in R&B right now. The funk put into "Jane's Dream," a song that only exists as a transition blurb, is unnecessary, but showcases how important consistency and storytelling is to the artist. The way the chorus of "Screwed" blends into "Django Jane" is so perfect you could listen to just those 10 seconds and get enough of the song to be satisfied. The way "Pynk" fades so that just Monáe's beautifully delicate vocals remain to highlight the equally delicate subject matter (I'll let you figure it out). The backing vocal loop on "I Like That" mimicking the best of 60s Motown. These are just examples pulled from dozens of moments on Dirty Computer that show Monáe is a bonafide star, a talent with no equal.

2. Idles
Joy as an Act of Resistance
Punk rock : Listen

From the opening moments of Idles' second album, you understand that the world is headed in the wrong direction. The industrial bass drones aren't here to welcome you to the promised land, but rather to warn you that the next 42 minutes are penance, a flagellation for all of humanity's sins. As "Colossus" morphs from its Jesus Lizard opener to its Black Flag conclusion, however, you understand that the gauntlet you will run is not like any other. This is going to be punishing and exciting at the same time.

"Brylcreem, creatine, and a bag of Charlie Sheen" begins the album's most successful entry into modern culture, "Never Fight a Man with a Perm," which apart from having one of the most amazing titles of any song ever, is as concise a treatise on Idles' influences as possible: there's post-punk guitars, punk lyrics, noise rock drums; and then the transition to a 3/4 chorus is straight out of a shoegaze manual. The song also is one of the best examples of Joe Talbot's poetry--"you look like a walking thyroid / you're not a man, you're a gland," he yells at his target, alt-right gym bros (if that wasn't incredibly obvious)--there's no obfuscation here.

And the examples of his wordsmithery can be found on every song: "this 'snowflake' is an avalanche" from "I'm Scum," "look at this card I bought because I love you" on "Love Song" (which, P.S. is a terrible love song, not to be played at weddings), "the mask of masculinity is a mask that's wearing me" on "Samaraitans" (which also has the play "I kissed a boy and I liked it" screamed at fever pitch, maybe the best vocal performance on the whole album), and "I go outside and I feel free / 'cause I smash mirrors and fuck TV" on "Television."

Idles created one of the best and harshest albums of 2017 with their first full-length Brutalism. Never before has an album so lived up to its name as that one. And it too was exactly what we needed to hear. But if Brutalism was the best at describing 2017, Joy as an Act of Resistance is the best at RESPONDING to 2018. Here we find Idles at their loudest, their most discordant, their fastest and their most furious. Every sound is dripping with glorious reverb and harsh, angular production. One of the few to wear their influences so obviously on their sleeve and yet still sound original, Idles fills the space with nasty, greasy textures culled straight from Swans and late-career Neu. Everything has only improved with their increasing anger.

"Rottweiler" is perhaps, and I don't say this lightly, the greatest closing track in the history of rock music. It is beyond normal musical consumption. Loud and angry certainly, but what punk music isn't? But the end, how the suite speeds up, changes key, becomes more degraded in texture. It changes from angry to apocalyptic, from loud to brutal, from fast to warped. This song will break your mind. But... it keeps going...

Keep going...

Smash it...

Ruin it...

Destroy the world...

1. Mitski
Be the Cowboy
Art pop : Listen

Two years ago, in the process of trying to distill all of 2016's great albums down to 25, or whatever arbitrary number I was aiming for then, I remember listening to this album, Puberty 2, by a Japanese-American woman that sounded, just strange. Somehow I liked it, I still can't explain the experience of it the first time, but it was like hearing all your favorite bands play over top of each other that, by pure coincidence, made an entirely new, coherent sound that was greater than the sum of its parts.

It's 2018, and Mitski has returned, and in that intervening time she honed, crafted, narrowed, specialized, and perfected every aspect of her uniquely unwieldy, undefinable sound. Be the Cowboy isn't just an opus, it defies explanation, it defies awe. Pop music shouldn't be this complicated. Art shouldn't be this listenable. What is this? There's a love ballad that has random industrial noise, a synthpop anthem that doesn't have a rhyme scheme, a country song that becomes an ambient drone, and a Billboard-charting single where she sings the word "nobody" over and over for a minute straight. What is this? The most depressing themes are given the most upbeat music while the most beautiful testaments to love and its eternity are played as dirges. What is this?

The major points of the album are "Old Friend," "A Pearl," "Nobody," "Washing Machine Heart," and "Two Slow Dancers," and we shall go through all of them. "Old Friend" is a folk ballad describing two exes who want to stay friends (or perhaps never got over each other) meeting in secret to...talk--just talk; "Meet me at Blue Diner / I'll have coffee and talk about nothing" Mitski sings, her feelings so delicate that a whisper would destroy them.

"A Pearl" has maybe the best poetic imagery of this or many years. "I fell in love with a war" Mitski croons, describing that temptation to return to an unhealthy relationship just so she can try to save him, "and nobody told me that it ended." Now in a new relationship, her need to be in the toxins is a beautiful mess, "it left a pearl in my head, and I roll it around every night, just to watch it glow." This is all played over a bombastic guitar and horn combination like arena rock, pointing to the necessity of the argument.

"Nobody," written while Mitski was traveling abroad alone, is probably the most descriptive image of loneliness and isolation in popular music in the modern era. "My god, I'm so lonely, so I open the window, to hear sounds of people;" she only wants to hear people, because maybe that is enough to satisfy the need for human connection. When she finally realizes nothing will end her solitude, all she can do is weep "nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody" over and over and over, because, well, there's nobody.

"Washing Machine Heart" is played for straight synthpop, even Italo-disco, with a Vangelis-esque repetition, 808 clap track and everything. But the fact that Mitski doesn't even attempt to create a verse structure of any kind is as maddening as it is inspiring, her run-on sentences giving Faulkner a run for his money. How is this even musically possible? She doesn't fall into anything resembling a normal pattern until the chorus, half of which is just solfege. This woman is impossible.

And then we end our journey with "Two Slow Dancers," the dictionary of human feeling condensed into a song. Is it literal? Are the dancers Mitski and her interest at a high school reunion? If it is, it's even sadder than the metaphor. Two people who missed their chance at true love with each other in their youth, now aged past the point where they can reconcile that fact, forever trapped in lives apart from each other, except this...one perfect moment, where they can dance with each other in the empty gym, the smell of wood and dust transporting them back to when "it would be 100 times easier". But that time is gone.

Mitski dabbles in everyday love, picks at loneliness, but her main concern is time, and how it ruins everything. Those dancers were meant to be together, but they never will be. That washing machine heart will never be used. That pearl will never go away, the oyster only adds to it. The Blue Diner with the old friend is only a temporary escape. Her thesis is most clearly explained on the elegy "A Horse Named Cold Air," which is at once her starkest instrumentation and Mitski at her most experimental: "I thought I'd traveled a long way, but I had circled the same old sin." Time's arrow neither stands still nor reverses. Now is now, it can never be a long time ago.

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And that's it everyone! The Second Baltimore Music Festival has come to a close, but here's to a better 2019, and the great music of 2018!

If our Albums of the Year aren't enough to hold you over, check out our Honorable Mentions or this year's amazing Runners Up.

The Best Albums of 2018: Runners Up

The following artists and their works were excellent and more than worthy of a listen, or several listens. They proved to be exemplary beyond the other totally great artists in our Honorable Mentions section.

And so we begin...

Runners Up listed alphabetically

Courtney Barnett
Tell Me How You Really Feel
Rock : Listen

Courtney Barnett is not afraid of you. Not of your judgement, or your physicality. Not of your loudness, your ignorance, or your calls for "Pedestrian at Best part 2." After a stint with Kurt Vile where she exorcised all her folk demons, Barnett returns with a glorious, fuzzed-out ode to self-empowerment, and a devious look at modern life. Picking up where she left off on Sometimes I Sit and Think, and Sometimes I Just Sit, she plays the guitar like there's an urgent need to get it out, and her songwriting is as visceral and crunchy as ever. Tell Me How You Really Feel proves that the best artists don't have a sophomore slump, they just power through. Barnett's idiosyncratic brand of Aussie-surfer rock is reflected in both how relaxed she is talking about serious themes, as well as her obvious accent, and it makes the album feel like a Melbourne breeze. Truly a great time for parties or for arguing with the patriarchy, grab your six-string and let's march!

Father John Misty
God's Favorite Customer
Folk rock : Listen

Joshua Tillman's music as Father John Misty has previously been almost oppressively soft, like being trapped in the plush blanket that's slowly suffocating you. And while I didn't particularly care for the musicality of his last effort, Pure Comedy, which was released just last year, it did mark a dark-yet-intriguing turning point in his lyricism. With God's Favorite Customer, he's finally got it all in one package. His sarcasm is biting, the music is catchy and original, the satire is hilarious, the sounds are infectious. "Date Night" alone could take an entire article to describe, its harsh production makes the guitar almost too clear, like a knife made of ice; and the lyrics are so intensely sardonic--Tillman takes on the persona of a pick-up artist/men's rights activist hitting on a woman at a bar--he could win a rap battle that would simultaneously light his opponent's hair on fire. It turns out that God's favorite is brutally honest, meta, and profoundly frustrating.

Low
Double Negative
Dream pop : Listen

Have you ever been in awe of beauty? Experiencing Double Negative is like seeing a statue of Mary cry: humbling, confusing, exhilarating. Everything you once questioned seems perfectly clear, and all of your doubts leave like butterflies at morning. Low has been making delicate, minimalist pop since the 90s, but until now they've eschewed electronics as though they feared an infectious disease. Their embracing of them here is not only revelatory, it's revolutionary. The low buzzes and thrums obfuscate any true song structure, leading to a meditative drone that only serves as the silver platter on which to serve Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker's vocals, which float like light beams through an open tomb. If this album doesn't reduce you to tears, it's because you have long since given up on humanity. This is proof that there are still beautiful, new things in the world.

Kacey Musgraves
Golden Hour
Country/Pop : Listen

Country, as a modern genre, is pretty devoid of new ideas. So when someone who has been almost solely responsible for the best writing in the industry decides to release her own work? Well that turns heads, and rightfully so. Kacey Musgraves has been in country for years without much fanfare, more keen to take up the booth than the mic, but finally shines through on Golden Hour. Technically her fourth album (bet you didn't know she actually had that many), it includes standard country fare like "Slow Burn" and "Butterflies", ballads like the beautiful closer "Rainbow," and "High Horse" is a straight-up disco song. This much variation isn't supposed to travel Country's halls, much less stop in each room to offer coffee and dessert. The warmth and congeniality that burst through every note is so inviting, like wrapping yourself up in front of the fire.

Parquet Courts
Wide Awake!
Punk/Dance-punk : Listen

"And fuck Tom Brady!" A. Savage screams at the end of album opener "Total Football," a scathing indictment of toxic masculinity and divisiveness in politics. The song calls to mind the better Clash songs that hide a deeper meaning behind fun rhythms and silly-sounding lyrics. Of course, most of the band's hatred toward TB12 is more related to their New York background than any sort of problem he may or may not represent, but the line is a great segue into the strange and entertaining world of Wide Awake!, Parquet Courts' sixth album (if you include that one they released as Parkay Quarts), and their best since 2012's Light Up Gold. The 38-minute runtime is so overly-listenable and bouncy you would forget that half of it is meant to impart some kind of meaning. Almost more brilliant than each song's writing are the transitions from one to another; the album flows so seamlessly you'll wonder how you got to closer "Tenderness" without taking a breath, but that's all part of the genius.

Pusha T
Daytona
Hip hop : Listen

If you know rap, you know Kanye West almost always saves the best beats for...everyone else. While he has brilliant songs of his own, and even released his own brilliant album this year, Daytona is proof positive that the man is a born producer. And Pusha T is no slouch either, his rhymes here are punchier and meaner than ever, leaving only destruction in his wake as he skates over the inventive hooks. And when he's not harshing his haters, he's hating on the perpetrators of sexual violence that led to #metoo, while at the same time setting up a safe space for his features (another Kanye specialty: letting the feature have the best bar). The sounds here run the full gammit, from Kanye's typical soul and R&B samples, to the more familiar Pusha T bass drops and subwoofer blowouts, and all of them backup the rhymes perfectly--not too ostentatious, not too veiled, but just right. Daytona was the first to be released of Kanye's 21-minute trifecta (the others being his own Ye and his collaboration with Kid Cudi, Kids See Ghosts), where each song is straight to the point, with nary a superfluous bridge or extra verse in sight. --An aside: Pusha drops a line about being as good as Dylon, the fictional Trinidadian rapper who "spits hot fire," made famous in Dave Chappelle's skit "Making the Band," and it's the most amazing moment in all of rap this year.-- Then there's "Infrared," which might have the best sample-loop hook in all of 2018, and is such a worthy last track that Drake had a whole diss track ghostwritten for him to respond to it.

Robyn
Honey
Electropop : Listen

Robyn's first album in eight years opens with a shimmering trail of synths, soon breaking into her usual beats, but these are different, more subtle, more tender. Honey is the culmination of nearly a decade of touring, writing, and more importantly to the narrative, life experience. It lacks the bombast and four-on-the-floor brashness of 2010's Body Talk, but it still contains all the closeness and vulnerability. Many of the beats are incredibly complex (not that Robyn shies away from complexity) as in the natural percussion of "Human Being," or the nearly experimental "Beach 2k20." She also doesn't forget to show you her roots on the disco-funk of "Because It's in the Music," probably the album's most upbeat and cheerful song. Robyn's voice flits over the lithe and fluid music while maintaining a feeling of timidity and reserve, still guarded after being hurt so many times. While elsewhere, like "Send to Robin Immediately," her singing soars, loud and proud, calling forth the spirit of Annie Lennox, an obvious influence, with both her gospel-style delivery and lyrical composition. And then, praise be, we have "Ever Again," the funkiest, sultriest, all-around greatest post-breakup song that's ever been made. If anyone can make being newly single sound fun, it's Robyn, and she steps into her role with a gusto and bravado that makes other pop stars wilt in her sun.

Sons of Kemet
Your Queen Is a Reptile
African jazz : Listen

Shocking news: I'm not a huge fan of jazz. But, every once in a while a new act will pop up that makes you wonder if maybe all those hipsters and beatniks might be on to something. One thing you'll notice right away is Sons of Kemet have their drums and percussion very forward, a change to jazz in general, unless you're listening to Buddy Rich, I guess. But the change is a welcome one, not only providing a much needed freshening of the genre, but also highlighting the band's African roots to great effect. No one will be able to accuse Your Queen Is a Reptile of being unoriginal. It also gets you to move; gone are the days of "listening to the notes they don't play"--the most condescending and pretentious notion in all of music--Sons of Kemet want everyone to party while they dazzle you with exemplary instrumentation and glorious lyricism. And while your queen (and by inference the Queen) may be a reptile, the Sons' queens are warrior women and civil right heroines: Ada Eastman, Harriet Tubman, Angela Davis, Yaa Asantewaa. The vocals, delivered by Michael Alec Anthony West and Josh Idehen, highlight their dissatisfaction with world leaders' distance from the African experience, from the refugee experience, from struggle, from hardship, from racism, from poverty. But in their telling, we are connected to each other, to true human interaction, to the power of people, to the joy of life, to hope, to light.

SOPHIE
Oil of Every Pearl's Un-Insides
Electronic : Listen

The opening of SOPHIE's debut album is a solemn, piano affair with a few electronic flourishes. It states the Scottish producer's thesis simply and beautifully. That sound...does not last. Almost immediately after "It's Okay to Cry," we are dropped in to a nightmare world of overblown bass, staggering synths, piercing percussion, harsh static, and near-Seussian world building delivered in both mocking falsetto and disturbing kidnapper-modulation. In fact, the next duo of songs, "Ponyboy" and "Faceshopping," are the two most hardcore songs you'll hear this year, easily crushing Death Grips' "Black Paint;" SOPHIE could open for Converge and probably upstage them. Now, Oil of Every Pearl's Un-Insides is not just random noise--far from it--when you are able to finally discern the song from the cacophony, you achieve a brief glimpse into the infinite possibilities of electronic music. And the album does calm down some from that opening salvo; "Is It Cold in the Water?" is both eerie and beautiful, with a synth pattern that epitomizes its namesake and a layered vocal performance that soothes as you drown in SOPHIE's sea. All that said, Oil of Every Pearl's Un-Insides defies traditional explanation--its sounds are too alien--but it is kooky with a hidden beauty, and it has what it takes to be an anthem for all the kooky people.

Kamasi Washington
Heaven and Earth
Contemporary jazz : Listen

2018 was pretty good to jazz. For the first time in a long time, albums from America's first original genre not only received widespread recognition (as opposed to hipsters and snobby purists), but sold/streamed well too. Kamasi Washington, for those who don't know, is a saxophonist and composer who is probably more well known from his contributions to Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp a Butterfly and Damn, Thundercat's Drunk, or Run the Jewels' RTJ3, than from his own music. But such a travesty is no longer acceptable. Heaven and Earth, Washington's sixth album (the first three are self-released so, you know, good luck), is by far his magnum opus. While 2015's The Epic lived up to its title, running almost 3 hours (!) and requiring three discs (!!) in physical copy, Heaven and Earth is not only easier on the phone battery, it's also tighter, more cohesive, and infinitely more listenable. This is the type of jazz you put on at a party to seem sophisticated, but with the added bonus of no one getting bored. Washington's extreme talent on the horn is showcased in great tracks "Can You Hear Him" and "The Psalmnist," while his tremendous composition skill is evident in every note. Along with Washington is a set of players that could be compared to the old greats--their set-ups and solos are brain melting. If you're looking to get into what is often considered a dead, or at the very least, esoteric, art form, Heaven and Earth is an amazing place to start.

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Stay tuned, readers. Later this week, we'll be releasing our Albums of the Year listicle!

If our Runners Up aren't enough to hold you over, check out our Honorable Mentions!

The Best Albums of 2018: Honorable Mentions

Welcome to the second annual Baltimore Music Festival, where we listen to everything and then rank our favorite albums of the year. Just as last year, there are three categories:

Honorable Mention, where the largest number of albums end up, those that were fun, interesting, and definitely good enough to warrant a stream or two;

Runners Up, where seven to ten albums reside (depending on how generous we’re feeling), those that were excellent and of high enough quality to land on your shelves as physical copies, or at least purchased from iTunes/AmazonMusic/GooglePlay;

Albums of the Year, the top three albums, those that are truly transcendent, the ones you’ll be reminiscing about while your grandchildren won’t stop playing whatever passes for popular music in 2048.

Shall we begin?

Honorable Mentions listed alphabetically

Against All Logic

2012-2017

Electronic : Listen

Arctic Monkeys

Tranquility Base Hotel & Casino

Lounge pop : Listen

Beach House

7

Dream pop : Listen

Blood Orange

Negro Swan

R&B : Listen

Brockhampton

Iridescence

Hip hop : Listen

Car Seat Headrest

Twin Fantasy (Face to Face)

Indie rock : Listen

Cardi B

Invasion of Privacy

Hip hop : Listen

Christine and the Queens

Chris

Pop : Listen

Denzel Curry

TA13OO

Hip hop : Listen

Lucy Dacus

Historian

Indie rock : Listen

Daughters

You Won't Get What You Want

Noise rock : Listen

Deafheaven

Ordinary Corrupt Human Love

Blackgaze : Listen

Death Grips

Year of the Snitch

Industrial hip hop : Listen

Gorillaz

The Now Now

New wave : Listen

Ariana Grande

Sweetener

Pop : Listen

Julia Holter

Aviary

Like...nightmares? : Listen

Hop Along

Bark Your Head Off, Dog

Indie rock : Listen

Jon Hopkins

Singularity

Electronic : Listen

Iceage

Beyondless

Post-punk : Listen

JPEGMAFIA

Veteran

Experimental hip hop : Listen

Kids See Ghosts

Kids See Ghosts

Hip hop : Listen

Let's Eat Grandma

I'm All Ears

Avant-pop : Listen

Paul McCartney

Egypt Station

Rock : Listen

MGMT

Little Dark Age

Synth-pop : Listen

Mount Eerie

Now Only

Indie folk : Listen

Nine Inch Nails

Bad Witch

Industrial rock : Listen

Noname

Room 25

Jazz rap : Listen

A Place to Bury Strangers

Pinned

Shoegaze : Listen

Preoccupations

New Material

Post-punk : Listen

Protomartyr

Consolation EP

Post-punk : Listen

Jeff Rosenstock

POST-

Punk rock : Listen

Travis Scott

Astroworld

Hip hop : Listen

Screaming Females

All at Once

Alternative rock : Listen

Ty Segall

Freedom's Goblin

Psychedelic rock : Listen

Shame

Songs of Praise

Post-punk : Listen

Sleep

The Sciences

Doom metal : Listen

Snail Mail

Lush

Indie rock : Listen

Soccer Mommy

Clean

Indie rock : Listen

Spiritualized

And Nothing Hurt

Art rock : Listen

Vince Staples

FM!

Hip hop : Listen

Earl Sweatshirt

Some Rap Songs

Hip hop : Listen

Tropical Fuck Storm

A Laughing Death in Meatspace

Alternative rock : Listen

U.S. Girls

In a Poem Unlimited

Art pop : Listen

Kali Uchis

Isolation

Reggaeton : Listen

The Voidz

Virtue

New wave : Listen

Anna von Hausswolff

Dead Magic

Experimental rock : Listen

Kanye West

Ye

Hip hop : Listen

Jack White

Boarding House Reach

Blues rock : Listen

Young Fathers

Cocoa Sugar

Alternative hip hop : Listen

Yves Tumor

Safe in the Hands of Love

Experimental pop : Listen

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Stay tuned, readers. The rest of this week, we'll be releasing our Runners Up and Albums of the Year listicles!