Michael Saba
Like the rebels she so often lionizes, Arulpragasam is conducting hit-and-run warfare on modern pop, snatching a hook here, a melody there, and then falling back to reshape these pilfered rhythms into unfettered anti-establishment anthems.
15y
It’s no mean feat for him to drop a solo album that’s both a trove of pop jams and a profound piece of artistic experimentation, and he’s done just that—a remarkable achievement by any measurement.
15y
Drake may not have been able to meet the dizzyingly high expectations for his debut, but then again, no one could have. So he did the next best thing—release a solid and consistent album that showcases his prodigious talent.
11y
Treats is just a whole goddamn lot of fun to listen to. It's a supremely raw and visceral pop masterwork, one appropriate to rocking out with headphones on, windows-down bumping on car stereos, four-A.M. warehouse dance parties and countless other summer moments that'll soon have soundtracks courtesy of Sleigh Bells.
15y
It's a wonderfully weird parade of sonic delights: an arresting consummation of the Lips' two-and-a-half decade career.
13y
Jay overreaches, leaning too heavily on by-the-numbers production from Kanye West and Timbaland, and muffling his own voice in favor of a guest-heavy tracklist.
15y
The album drags at points; with 22 tracks and a 70-minute runtime, some of this material would have been better off on a mixtape. But that’s a minor flaw in an otherwise superbly-executed gangster epic.
15y
Amidst blistering tritone riffs and arpeggiated chords is a group keener to explore sonic harmony than crank the distortion. Crack the Skye is an epic trek across the space-time continuum, entirely on Mastodon’s terms.
13y
On Universal Mind Control, his eighth studio album, Common opts for a frustrating fusion of Daft Punk-lite electronica and sexually-charged fluff.
11y
The epitaph’s already scrawled in Chinese Democracy’s anachronistic margins: a bottomless pit dug by disposable income, a persecution complex and egomania.
11y
At just over a half hour long, it's more EP than album, but even these (ostensible) B-sides make for a giddy and infectious sprint.
15y
Metallica hasn’t sounded this energized and dynamic since the band rose to prominence as pugnacious up-and-comers in the west coast’s metal scene. Death Magnetic is more than a paean to all things thrash—it’s the revivification of ambition dormant for nearly two decades.
14y
Melodic post-punk gives way to a wider sonic landscape, yielding to muted tones that dovetail comfortably with Hamilton Leithauser’s now-audible vocals.
14y
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