In Western Stars, the old adage about finding meaning through the journey couldn't feel truer. And that's an idea that Springsteen can relate to—leaving a little bit of yourself in a landscape that feels immortal.
Schlagenheim, the London post-punk quartet's debut, spins in all directions and without any warning, executed with youthful, frenetic energy.
Even if Lost Girls often sounds like scrapped ideas taken from a larger project, Khan doesn't go too deep into nostalgia—still working firmly within a pop framework.
In an era of hazy, spineless mumble rap, it’s so refreshing to hear two insanely talented, forward-thinking hip-hop artists back in the saddle for another Schedule-I romp in the game. Dig it.
That’s what Ode to Joy does best: it fights against hopelessness by accepting it.
For all the confidence she radiates, she's got some growing up to do. And if part of maturing means elevating her music to her message, so much the better.
What’s notable here is that everything that should be a risk is pulled off without missing a step. The process of writing this album was personal and intimate, but the end result is a confident, bold debut.
Calling Life Metal a great metal/rock/guitar album, ultimately, is a disservice: This is a sonic meditation channeled through humbuckers and hearts.
What makes it work is how even as he continues embracing more conventional instruments and structures, Lange still leaves room for himself to tinker and experiment at the same time. For music so understated and gentle, it's almost startling just how powerful it's capable of being.
Quiet Signs manages to present a more empathetic side of her that was once concealed. It's still quaint by comparison ... a delicately-crafted acoustic set that offers insight into her deepest fears and truths without letting us encroach into her private space.
It's the true embodiment of a studio album, and it shows—from the classic FM radio pop-rock of Red Bull and Hennessy to the soulful country-rock of Little White Dove, every instrument is put to use with seamless efficiency.
Why Hasn't Everything Already Disappeared? marks their third album since they regrouped, and setting aside the individual merits of both Monomania and Fading Frontier, it's the first where they provide a clearer understanding of how they function during their second phase as a unified piece.
I Am Easy To Find resembles a closing-down sale, with ideas being thrown around whether they fit or not—even the inclusion of Rylan (first recorded during the High Violet sessions) comes across as a knowing nod.
The band fills U.F.O.F. with a rich tapestry of textural tones, almost to the point of oversaturation. It's so embedded in their songs that they somehow get lost in their creation, filled with awe and wonder (and some healthy pretension).
Few artists achieve in their lifetimes what Simbi Ajikawo has achieved at 25. Grey Area, her coming-of-age (maybe "quarter life crisis" is a better epithet) record is equal parts confident, slick, and still somehow jejune.
It's a new start for an artist who many had proclaimed early retirement. And even if he hasn't cheered up, his return does feel consistent with his downtrodden nature—and we can only listen as it all unfolds.
He's a cunning songwriter who will take on a challenge whenever an idea seems to complex to untangle, even if his tender side will always be there.
Big Thief proves that it can feed your head, your heart, and your hands in equal measure. Like the musical giants of old there is nothing they can’t do, ably going from strength to strength. Two Hands serves as the band’s call to arms.
Despite Mering's sonic flights of fancy, Titanic Rising is a lean, 40-minute recording that carefully considers her performative sentiments with fine craftsmanship. No emotions go astray—every full-hearted melody here stirs a passion in both subject matter and skill.