Her sound is compelling enough that, even when her lyrics regress into platitudes, her music remains stirring and intense.
In contrast with much of today’s folky indie-pop, which rests on the melancholy sway of dream pop, Cool Dry Place is unexpectedly groovy, with hooks and rhythms worming their way into hearts and minds in more ways than one.
Nick Cave may very well be the avatar for the idea that what we think of as “mellow” can be “heavy” and vice versa. With Carnage, he and Ellis prove that point yet again. Believe it or not, they also stretch themselves again, suggesting there may be no end to the inspiration they have up their sleeves.
Even with booming guitars, pounding drums and soaring instrumentals, Little Oblivions feels just as intimate as Baker’s more, well, intimate albums.
The British quintet’s utter disregard for rock convention elevates Bright Green Field’s paranoid, vaguely dystopian universe.
Where serpent mourned fizzling loves on soil and debut EP blisters, here, he hails the simple glories and everyday little moments of thriving Black queer romances.
After establishing themselves as one of the most unique acts on the indie-rock landscape for three albums in a row, it’s heartening to see Spirit of the Beehive take their music even further.
Ignorance is a departure. More specifically, this album is a stunningly assured plunge into a sleek, buzzing jazz-pop wilderness.
There’s a timeless quality to Promises, an inscrutable sense that the album could hail from 30 years in the past or 30 years into the future. Of course, that’s what makes it a genuine intergenerational collaboration, this sense of time collapsing upon itself.