It’s a heavy, at times uncomfortable listen, but one that feels intensely relatable. It finds strength in the somber and the morose by paining it in bright colors and wonderful riff work.
Even at his most open, there's still this sense that his character-driven songs wouldn't exist without revealing the backstory of his Canadian roots. His sentiments are more palpable and poignant, but his approach is as casual as always.
What’s great about Sideways to New Italy is that it can be used as background noise, but anyone who has it in a vibe playlist will notice its' quality compared to its peers.
Bodies Being Burned, despite coming out a year later, doesn’t feel like outtakes or leftovers. It’s a sharpening of the ideas introduced on Addiction to Blood, performed with clipping.’s classic graveness which only supports how scary this album can be.
Rough and Rowdy Ways is the ambitious opus we didn't think he'd return to after close to a decade of elegantly phoning it in.
Despite Live Forever not being perfect, Bartees Strange swings for the fences on every song here. It’s exciting just to watch it unfold in front of your eyes.
Suddenly isn't his strongest work—and at times it indirectly anthologies his entire oeuvre—but it does solidify his place as a thinking person's electronic artist who injects meaning and empathy into his music above all else.
Melee, Dogleg's cathartic debut full-length, sounds like a celebration and a lamentation.
Aside from continuing their streak of power pop gold, the harmonies on display (including Stokes’ multi-tracked ones) are ravishing.
It's only after several listens that the album's wholeness clarifies. Because the tracks tend to be downtempo, reflective, and downright sleepy, it takes time and patience to realize Bejar is working like a good storyteller.
This latest offering from Fleet Foxes embodies their entire catalog of folksy sounds, seasons it with some jazzy elements, and pares down some bloat (only one track over five minutes).
These guys are still writing and playing at the top of their game, making another album that’s just as brutal as Stage Four, if not a little more palatable for everyday listening.
Heavy Light is ambitious, grandiose, provocative, and, like Poem before it, still allows you to shake your ass in places if you want to.
Small quibbles notwithstanding, Future Nostalgia is the perfect antidote to quarantine-induced cabin fever.
The band is coming into their own, romanticizing the more humdrum aspects of the everyday with both joyous celebration and sulky dissatisfaction.
With NO DREAM, Jeff Rosenstock illustrates how easy it is to jump from happy to sad, and while it may be disappointing, the people and things you love will make it comforting to settle in between.
Whether they intend to or not, their tuneful, guitar-driven songcraft practically obliterates the left-of-center indie that's softened the genre into dreamy, pillowy mush.
The companion album instrumentals consists of two extended tracks. The first, for indigo, is a scrapbook of strums and chords that Lenker can use as a sampler to construct fuller songs in the future.
Whereas abysskiss stayed on drearier paths, songs is as colorful and varied as her grandmother’s painting of wildflowers that adorns its cover.
Tumor’s latest works on the issues of Safe while reaching for new genres and ideas, creating a project that’s a very strong step in the right direction.
Over the past few years, it may have seemed like Bridgers was a team player, but on Punisher, she reannounces herself as a solo songwriter reaching her peak.