The Los Angeles singer/songwriter’s latest solo effort is a merciless, gravitational, witty and absurd benchmark of technicolor rock ‘n’ roll.
After making a record about carrying the weight of all the world’s meanness on her back, she’s now giving space to her own ramshackle heart. Donnelly harnesses a single, palpable truth by Flood’s end: She is her own panacea.
On her sixth LP, the Welsh avant rocker uses time-honored, tragic influences to help her make sense of the urgent, unfurling present.
Billed as the successor to 2019’s acclaimed After Hours, Abel Tesfaye’s fifth studio LP transcends dynamic pop grandeur and flaunts accountability in the face of death.
CRAWLER is a project about flaws, healing and reclamation. It’s a remarkable, haunted and resonate touchstone for rock and roll, a record unafraid of its own emotions and openness—full of stories worth returning to and untangling a hundred times over.
Call Me If You Get Lost delivers, by way of investigating a part of Tyler we’ve not yet seen on any of his previous projects: transparency.
A gloomier companion to 2020’s Getting Into Knives, John Darnielle’s latest is patient, tense, and full of empathy.
Foo Fighters is a debut worth its weight in whatever you’re willing to invest into it. By all means, it is not Grohl at his sharpest, but you can make the argument that it’s him at his most compelling.
Even at her most somber, Joni’s music is a gesture of faith that erases barriers between those who decide to listen.
Control is exactly what the title says: It is not just a nurturing of identity, it’s a demand to never lose it ever again.