Throughout the album, Swift essentially lists the things she loves: her mother, her boyfriend and, let’s face it, love itself. While these are all heartwarming sentiments, they amount to a statement lacking any profound meaning, backed by music that struggles to make a lasting impression.
Maggie Rogers is a pure pop star and a deserving one, at that. She’s self-assured in a way other radio stars aren’t, never afraid to fold in her folk background and do whatever she wants. And you just can’t help but root for her.
WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO? has its faults, not quite hitting its full potential, but it gets damn well close, delivering an infectious record for the post-party hangover.
Charli rockets down the same hyperspeed lane as Pop 2, and like its predecessor, it’s home to a staggering number of unyielding future-pop anthems.
This album—a treasure trove of zippy guitar hooks, glimmering synths and lemony vocals expertly curated by Hackman—is all about human connection. She hones in on her emotional and sexual connections both to herself and others post-breakup.
Immunity has just enough unforgettable glimmers to justify Clairo’s buzz.
Her music and her persona may be inextricably entwined, but it’s a delightfully fun package.
An immense, nearly overwhelming spaciousness takes over Pang, which is intricately produced and layered with resplendent, crystalline trinkets of noise and sound unspooling around Polachek, whose vocals, immaculate and exacting, are amplified and crushed by reverb and vocoder.
MAGDALENE is the sound of an artist gluing together the million tiny shards in which she found herself after an explosive breakup.
Dedicated could’ve easily been either a woebegone heartbreak record or a carefree, lovestruck free-for-all had it been dreamt up by someone else. Instead, thanks to Ms. Jepsen’s talent for processing feelings, it’s an intersection of those two ends of the pop spectrum and a daring display of chart-topping sounds from across the decades.