#Steve Hartlett | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinceileftyoublog · 6 years ago

Text

Top 70 Albums of 2018

Every year here at SILY, we’ve increased the number of records in our year-end list by 10. Over the last few years, that move has been mostly arbitrary, aside from the fact that we increasingly listened to more and more great albums. This year, it seemed like a necessity--there was no consensus #1 album among any of us like there was in previous years. Plus, contributors Lauren Lederman and Daniel Palella didn’t share a single common album in their individual list!

While we know there were more great records in 2018 than just the ones listed below, these were our favorites.

70. Tal National - Tantabara (FatCat)

Tantabara features the best singing on any Tal National album so far. From the long screaming notes of “Belles Reines” to the soft, lovely harmonies of “Duniya” and “Trankil”, each member of the band is given the opportunity to showcase his or her unique style and tone. Tal National is a collective, but let’s not forget the individuals that make up the great band who are now 3-for-3 over their past few records. The difference with this one is it makes them essential listening.

Read the rest of our review here.

69. Robbie Fulks & Linda Gail Lewis - Wild! Wild! Wild! (Bloodshot)

We should be thankful that we have a document of a collaboration between Chicago folk hero Robbie Fulks and the legendary piano player and singer Linda Gail Lewis. Wild! Wild! Wild! is a collection of Fulks originals and covers. On each song, he leads the band and produces. The credits list is, as expected, insane, The Flat Five part of their backing band in addition to a ton of collaborators on individual tracks.

Read the rest of our review here.

68. Brigid Mae Power - The Two Worlds (Tompkins Square)

The Two Worlds–whether referring to pastoral beauty vs. raw anger, the present vs. the past, or something else–is an album for the #MeToo era in 2018. And not just because it’s a protest against toxic masculinity, but because it allows Power to embrace and celebrate her own artistry.

Read the rest of our review here.

67. Shannen Moser - I’ll Sing (Lame-O)

If any album took me by surprise this year, it was Shannen Moser’s country-tinged I’ll Sing. It feels timeless, a piece of folk for the current age that both borrows from the genre’s storied past and the more recent history of indie rock. “Every Town” paints a vivid picture of a backyard party and the wistfulness of the unknown. “West Texas Blues” sounds like it was recorded on the fly, a quick expulsion of emotion mid-road trip. Meanwhile, “Joanna”, “Trouble”, and “One for Mama” could be from another decade, covers of dusty songs from the canon. Yet, the songs are all Shannen. Her warm vocals and the melancholy of her lyrical portraits are what kept drawing me back, lines like “If I could feel something good, I would share with you/You know I would.” There’s a plaintiveness to each song, one that rolls through the album that’s only enhanced by the emotion Moser pours into each vocal performance. - Lauren Lederman

66. Stove - ‘s Favorite Friend (Exploding In Sound)

After a string of Stove EPs occupying the space left in the wake of Ovlov’s initial breakup, a new Stove release has come to feel like an unexpected gift. Beginning to play with drum machines and softer songwriting sensibilities across their previous records, ‘s Favorite Friend comes not as a bold new direction for Stove’s sound, but a refinement of it. Steve Hartlett and Jordyn Blakely have nailed a sound that departs almost completely from the Dinosaur Jr. fuzz soup we have come to expect from Ovlov, diving into more personal anecdotes and ballads, but not totally stripping away the punch Hartlett is capable of. “Liverwurst” encapsulates this perfectly, with its breezy acoustic riff and touching lyrics, leading way to a loud but orchestrated catharsis. “Duckling Fantasy” gives the listener a welcome foray into drummer Blakely playing frontman. Its frantic feeling and confidence solidify it as one of Stove’s briefest moments of brilliance to date. Overall, ‘s Favorite Friend displays that Stove is its own unique entity, capable of great variety and very effective songwriting. - Daniel Palella

65. Sons Of Kemet - Your Queen Is A Reptile (impulse!)

The title Your Queen Is A Reptile is a strong rebuke of the British monarchy’s mistreatment of black immigrants that gains even more political weight in context of Meghan Markle. But instead of making a protest record, Sons of Kemet shone a light on other queens throughout history–black women who have made a positive impact on society at large. With co-production by Dill Harris and features from performance poet Josh Idehen and Congo Natty, Your Queen Is A Reptile takes you on a journey through a wide variety of black stories and black music.

Read the rest of the review here.

64. Joey Purp - QUARTERTHING (self-released)

My real introduction to Joey Purp was his 2016 mixtape iiiDrops and his connection to his friends in the same scene like Noname and Chance The Rapper. What was so exciting about iiiDrops was Purp’s confidence, and QUARTERTHING not only feels like a step forward for the rapper but a leap into the spotlight. Joey Purp has arrived, confidence and flow surrounded by excellent production. “24k Gold/Sanctified” kicks off the album with a sense of joy and celebration, but lyrically, it recognizes that pull back to reality, the realism of the world and its violence, going from “I’m still alive!” to “I know we still alive / But I wake up to bullets flying.” That’s a theme throughout: the weight between celebration and survival, that pull between idealism and realism. “Elastic” reminds me of a grown-up sequel to “Girls@”, and the footwork-inspired beat of “Aw Sh*t!” is infectious. And while he’s more than capable of carrying out an album on his own, Purp finds some help from local names like Ravyn Lenae and Queen Key, but also a few more instantly recognizable names like both RZA and GZA. It’s a debut for an artist who’s been creating for years, but one that revels in its confidence and self-assured boldness. - LL

63. Foodman - Aru Otoko No Densetsu (Sun Ark)

Toying for years with the traditions of Chicago’s footwork scene, there has always been a sense of child-like playfulness conveyed in Foodman’s compositions. The Japanese artist’s rhythms stutter and juke in ways we have come to expect, but the sounds themselves are the artifice of a mind operating fully on a sense of wonder. On Aru Otoko No Densetsu, Foodman strips away what we expect from a dance record, or even a simple reduction thereof. What we are left with are percussive sounds surfacing, seemingly from toys and simple objects, mingling and slowly taking form--not with an end goal or rhythm in mind, but simply with the intent of play. Despite this, there is no feeling of lackluster or aimlessness--every bleep and hit on Aru Otoko No Densetsu explores what one can do when conventions and expectations are subverted. - DP

62. Years & Years - Palo Santo (Polydor)

Olly Alexander purported to release a concept pop album where gender and sexuality don’t exist and whose title was essentially a dick joke. On paper, Years & Years’ Palo Santo sounds like an ambitious album destined only to disappoint. In reality, it’s ambitious and impresses. The trio of Alexander, Mikey Goldsworthy, and Emre Türkmen have made a forward-thinking, percussive pop record about relationships that simply bangs. Whether Alexander is reflecting about a fling with a supposedly straight man or getting over being left, he’s dancing most of the time.

Read the rest of our review here.

61. Kississippi - Sunset Blush (Alcopop!)

If you managed to catch Kississippi live this year, you’ll likely have seen a full band surrounding Zoe Reynolds, but she alone writes the band’s songs. Sunset Blush sees Reynolds tapping into dreamier, poppier indie fare compared to her last EP, the moody We Have No Future, We’re All Doomed. The shift suits her. Her voice worked well with the starker, lo-fi feeling of that EP and is just as strong on her latest. “Easier to Love” feels lush with its synth-driven melody as Reynold’s voice wraps around the sound. That’s not to say the guitar-driven tracks are few or lacking here. “Cut Yr Teeth” finds strength in circling guitars and a realization in the lyrics: “The person you made yourself out to be / Would feel sorry for what you have done to me”. If Zoe had any nervousness about pivoting to more of a pop sound, Sunset Blush proves that Kississippi effortlessly made that move. - LL

60. Kraus - Path (Terrible)

Kraus’ Path is a triumphant effort of pushing sounds so deeply into the red that their proclamations are felt completely despite such careful shrouding. The Texas artist never felt quite a part of his hometown scene, and this isolation and yearning is felt in every blistering moment of Path. The slow, clean build of “Bum” gives way to an absolutely crushing wall of distortion, giving just enough headroom for Kraus’ adept and feverish drumming, as well as his mangled vocals, to cut through. It is all around a unique entry into both shoegaze and experimental music at large, showing what can be done with simple tools pushed to the point of breaking. The emotional quality of this record cannot be understated, even if it cannot be fully understood. - DP

59. Protomartyr - Consolation EP (Domino)

For a band as consistent as Protomartyr, destined to put out a new collection of movingly bleak post punk every couple years, it’s remarkable that an off-year EP would be just as good as a full-length. It’s even better that the EP offers something new for the band. Containing some of their best songs to date, Consolation, recorded by R. Ring’s Mike Montgomery and featuring Kelley Deal on two of its four tracks, is at times more sad and at times more hopeful than anything the band’s ever done.

Read the rest of our review here.

58. Now, Now - Saved (Trans)

Six years after the release of the atmospheric Threads, Now, Now returned with Saved, which shifted their sound to glossy, danceable tracks that still capture some of the desperate, emo bend of the band’s previous output. That’s not to say that a sense of desperation of heightened emotions detracts from Saved. On the contrary, the album encapsulates those seemingly unquenchable feelings of desire into demands (“I want it all” on standout “MJ”) and declarations (“Don’t you know I’m desperate for you?”), giving the synth-focused music an even more commanding presence. On lead single “SGL”, KC Dalager purrs, “Give in to me.” It’s easy to slip into the slick, desire-and-devotion fueled world of Saved, so let yourself in and enjoy the ride. - LL

57. drowse - Cold Air (The Flenser)

It is hard to not draw comparisons from Droswe’s Cold Air to Have A Nice Life’s reissued classic Deathconsciousness. Themes and feelings of loss and hopelessness are carried by crushing guitars, washed out vocals, and a penchant for doom and gloom. What Cold Air excels at, however, is making this sense of dread feel so personal and connected to the artist. Kyle Bates’ ability to make sonic cacophony convey such personal pain takes his efforts just as much into the realm of Mount Eeerie as it does Have a Nice Life. This isn’t romanticizing the apocalypse--this is a real and unguarded glimpse into the personal dread of one coming back from the brink of death. - DP

56. Thalia Zedek Band - Fighting Season (Thrill Jockey)

You can run, or you can hide. You can love, or you can fight. Or, you can do both sets of both, or all of them at once. Picking your battles–that’s what Thalia Zedek’s Fighting Season is all about. Today, the struggle we all share is balancing the personal and the political, and Zedek dives right in on her latest record. Written–you guessed it–in the wake of the 2016 U.S. presidential election, the album shows a woman whose voice is weary but whose instrumental chops are ready to battle.

Read the rest of our review here.

55. The Sidekicks - Happiness Hours (Epitaph)

If you’re a fan of The Sidekicks, you’re aware of the magic that awaits in each of their albums, the joy that radiates through the crowd at one of their shows. And if you’re not in the know, someone out there is ready to share with you the virtues of the Ohio band. Their fifth album Happiness Hours glimmers and shines like a Midwest summer. Bright guitars give each song a slick, competent indie rock sheen, one you’d want to blast while walking along a sun-drenched sidewalk. But within each song are lyrics that range from tongue-in-cheek to self-deprecating, juxtaposing so well with the bounce in the music. If you don’t know The Sidekicks, take this as your call to action: go give Happiness Hours a listen and then see how many times you catch yourself recommending it to someone else. - LL

54. Skee Mask - Compro (Ilian Tape)

Similar to Objekt’s brilliant Cocoon Crush, Skee Mask’s Compro seeks to explore the intersection of dance music and ambient music. Unlike Objekt, however, Skee Mask does so by introducing and slowly unmasking more traditional forms. Break-beats and dance floor standards surface among more haunting sounds. Whereas Cocoon Crush swirls and unravels, Compro takes a veteran sensibility for rhythm and allows it to breathe and build, firmly but satisfyingly swaying between danceable cuts and soundscapes in a wholly refreshing manner. - JM

53. Olivia Chaney - Shelter (Nonesuch)

Singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist Olivia Chaney takes traditional forms of music and standards and imbues them with the type of beauty that can come only from vulnerability and doubt. Shelter, her most recent album, is filled with moments, stories, and broader feelings of letting one’s guard down–whether that’s being open to embrace or being honest with yourself–and the benefits of doing so. “Bare weakness open / There hides strength,” Chaney sings on standout “IOU” over dobro riffs way bouncier compared to her normally downtempo material. That’s the essential idea behind Shelter, an album named after a word that’s got an increasingly negative connotation, whether to describe over-protection of kids or living in a sociopolitical bubble. The type of shelter Chaney sings about is a safe space where she’s supported, can admit to both her shortcomings and her “demons”, and ultimately thrive.

Read the rest of our review here.

52. Restorations - LP5000 (Tiny Engines)

Year-end lists are a great way to encapsulate achievements from the last twelve months, but they’re also a great way to look back and revisit a specific time and place. A listen to Restorations’ cheekily titled LP5000, their first album since 2014, not only shows a band refining their sound but presenting us with a portrait of this year. Punk guitars and Jon Loudon’s tender, graveled voice shine throughout each track, leaving no wasted space in the album. For a short run time, Restorations has a lot to say. It’s a concise, muscular album that clocks in at just under 30 minutes, but Restorations doesn’t need much time to cover the way neighborhoods change and gentrify (”The Red Door”, “Caretaker”), the uncharted territory of suddenly being responsible for more than yourself (”Nonbeliever”), to calling out what so many of us think as we check our phones for the twentieth time in a day: “You’re taking a sip of your coffee / Glance at your phone and you mumble, ‘I hope he dies.’”

It’s an album that commiserates, that takes the time to pull up alongside you if you want to have a conversation or would rather shout along the lyrics, a shared catharsis either way. - LL

51. 공중도둑 (Mid-Air Thief) - 무너지기 (Crumbling) (Mid-Air Thief)

South Korean artist Mid-Air Thief is the musical enigma I never expected this year. Crumbling carries a sense of psychedelia so wondrous and un-forced that wistfully carries the listener through a joyous array of synthesizers and textures. Punctuated by acoustic guitars and soft vocals, this record drifts in ways and through spaces previously untouched. A mysterious release from a seemingly unknown artist, it lends itself to the same sense of wonder explored by many Japanese artists such as Cornelius and Fishmans. Here, however, this curiosity is not tethered by collage, but rather by careful and euphoric movement through moods and spaces, keeping its palette and scope refined but always tinkered with. - DP

50. Sleep - The Sciences (Third Man)

Earlier this year, Sleep released The Sciences, their first new album in 15 years, comprised of some songs that were totally new and some that were written during the sessions for their opus Dopesmoker. But when and where Sleep tracks were born has become increasingly irrelevant since their songs thrive from losing a sense of time and place. They exist seemingly with no beginning or end. And so do the albums themselves.

Read the rest of our review here.

49. The Internet - Hive Mind (Columbia)

Hive Mind is their long-awaited follow-up to Ego Death, and it’s influenced by the aforementioned time away from home and newfound fame and acclaim. For one, Syd hands some singing duties over to Lacy. While previously, especially live, she seemed shy over the course of a full album or show, here, she takes full advantage of the songs she sings, showing off a shiny swagger. Both Syd and Lacy hand over production lead to Christopher Allan Smith. What results is a great album because everyone sounds fresh. The band is wise without being weathered.

Read the rest of our review here.

48. Marisa Anderson - Cloud Corner (Thrill Jockey)

Marisa Anderson’s Thrill Jockey debut Cloud Corner reminds me of something Red River Dialect’s David Morris said to me earlier this year: “Relaxation is a form of growing.” Inspired less by the nihilist expanse of Ennio Morricone scores and more by the necessary buoyancy of Tuareg desert blues, Cloud Corner acts not just as a safety net for Anderson but replenishment during a time of political chaos.

Read the rest of our review here.

47. Half Waif - Lavender (Cascine)

Listening to Lavender, the new album by Half Waif, it’s hard to believe the album is less than 40 minutes long. A bold, maximal, exhausting, and ultimately brilliant affair, Lavender was created by Nandi Rose Plunkett, Adan Carlo, and Zack Levine, all at one point in Pinegrove. Plunkett’s voice and lyrics are centerfold. The album’s title refers to lavender that her grandmother, 95 years old at the time the album was written (and now deceased), would pick and boil. Naturally, the album’s about aging and collapse–of people, of relationships, of the United States of America.

Read the rest of our review here.

46. Bettye Lavette - Things Have Changed (Verve)

On Things Have Changed, LaVette doesn’t just cover lesser-known songs. She covers some of Dylan’s arguably weakest material and makes it her own. Appearances by Keith Richards and Trombone Shorty don’t matter. This album is all LaVette.

Read the rest of our review here.

45. Parquet Courts - Wide Awake! (Rough Trade)

A punk album you can dance to: It’s not a novel idea or even always a good one, but Parquet Courts have made that and more with their latest Wide Awake! With none other than Danger Mouse producing, the band has made a spiritual if not entirely aesthetic sibling to albums like There’s A Riot Goin’ On and Maggot Brain, one that combines their usual biting, witty, and respectful social commentary with heartfelt personal stories. It’s their greatest achievement yet.

Read the rest of our review here.

44. Ruston Kelly - Dying Star (Rounder)

“How the hell do I return to normal / If I'm always ending up flat on my back?”

Ruston Kelly has been through hell, and Dying Star is his document of that time, from overdose to his “return to normal.” For someone who’s made a career out of writing songs for other artists, Dying Star is Kelly’s most focused and refined effort so far, offering sharply painted portraits of addiction and heartbreak. It’s the album of an artist who has been to the brink and stared down the options on either side of a thin line.

Inspired by outlaw lyricists, there is no charm in Kelly’s depictions of drug use and the destruction that so often follows, but there is emotion deep in each track, and even humor (see “Faceplant”). A masterful storyteller, Kelly’s album ultimately celebrates survival and the emergence of a songwriter exorcising his own demons. And if that wasn’t enough to get you to listen, Kelly shows off his figure skating skills (yes, really, he once trained in the sport) in the video for the haunting “Son of a Highway Daughter”. - LL

43. Damien Jurado - The Horizon Just Laughed (Secretly Canadian)

The horizon laughs at Damien Jurado on a song where he illustrates a time he considered ending his life. “The clock is a murderer / My time is her burden,” he sings on the incredible “The Last Great Washington State” on his gorgeous The Horizon Just Laughed. It’s true–everybody dies. But Jurado wants to be there for his own death. “What good is living if you can’t write your ending?” he sings. A move from the Pacific Northwest to California has stirred up a lot in Jurado’s mind while simultaneously spurring some of the breeziest Laurel Canyon or 70s AM radio pop he’s ever made.

Read the rest of our review here.

42. Bonny Doon - Longwave (Woodsist)

The songs of Longwave are heartfelt but lighthearted. There is a personal and relatable touch that accompanies it’s 10 track tenure. “A Lotta Things” explores of sense of personal shortcoming, a desire to shirk one’s responsibilities and expectations. But it is held together by an almost sarcastic quality that keeps it from veering into overtly moody territory (“I’m faking my own death, so I can get some rest”). “I Am Here (I Am Alive)” borrows from David Berman’s sonic frontier while maintaining its own sense of brooding and listlessness. “Where Do You Go?” captures and grounds this listlessness with more anecdotes of youthful daydreaming. The way Longwave winds down with a slowed down version of “Try to Be”’s playful riff is a fitting closer to an album whose aim seems to be to wander. - DP

41. Hop Along - Bark Your Head Off, Dog (Saddle Creek)

Listening to Bark Your Head Off, Dog, the incredible new album from Hop Along, I can’t help but wonder how in the hell lead singer Frances Quinlan has the time to think about all she does. Like all of us in this day and age, she wrestles with the idea that even though everyone dies, it’s important to have empathy for those with a harder road to the eventual endpoint. But that’s not where Quinlan’s mind stops. As everyone else broadly analyzes the tale of Cain and Abel, she wonders what their childhood relationship was like. As everyone is aghast at the state of Arkansas rushing lethal injections before the drug reaches its expiration date, Quinlan thinks about the vacation of the judge who presided over the decision. As a songwriter, she’s able to focus on individual events as representative of something larger. Her illustration of her formative experiences causes her to reflect on those of others, and likewise, us on our own.

Read the rest of our review here.

40. Screaming Females - All At Once (Don Giovanni)

I never would have seen All At Once coming from Screaming Females. Three years ago, they traded the Steve Albini-produced punk of Ugly for the Matt Bayles-addled plodding sludge of Rose Mountain. The results were predictable. However, working again with Bayles, generally more known for his work on post-rock, post-hardcore, and metalcore albums, has provided the band to establish a flourishing relationship with the producer. Marissa Paternoster and company have made an album that’s the perfect sonic manifestation of her anxieties and obsessions, each song essential and traversing a different style.

Read the rest of our review here.

39. Glenn Jones - The Giant Who Ate Himself and Other New Works for 6 & 12 String Guitar (Thrill Jockey)

Glenn Jones communicates through his guitar, and never more so than on The Giant Who Ate Himself and Other New Works for 6 & 12 String Guitar. Recorded in New Jersey with Laura Baird and engineer Matthew Avezado, it’s an album that’s at times buoyant and at times melancholy but always transparent. Jones’ strings vibrate on the opening title track, alternating between major and minor chords. The instrument and the medium is just as important as the stories themselves. The arpeggio guitar lines with Flamenco flourishes on “Everything Ends”, the dissonance of the swaying “The Was and The Is”, the blues picking of “Even the Snout and the Tail”–for much of the record, Jones is coming up with contemporary standards.

Read the rest of our review here.

38. YOB - Our Raw Heart (Relapse)

YOB lead singer Mike Scheidt suffered an intestinal disease that threatened his very presence on this earth, let alone during the making of the band’s new album Our Raw Heart. Hearing the album, you’d think it was recorded after recovery when Scheidt was so thankful to be alive he couldn’t help but shout to the heavens. That it was recorded during his time of turmoil only makes the record more life affirming.

Read the rest of our review here.

37. The Field - Infinite Moment (Kompakt)

I was lucky enough to see German producer The Field perform 2 months ago. A night of house music and friends was a well needed break from the scenes I typically find myself in. I recall an energy in the room, a sort of joy typically found on the dancefloor. When The Field began his set, the eerie, distant vocals of “Made of Steel. Made of Stone” might have brought this energy to a halt. But the moodiness of these infinitely stretched notes took the energy of the room and seemed to crystalize it. Infinite Moment could not be a more apt title for this record--I saw its captivating hypnosis take effect on a room full of club-goers. The dancing didn’t cease; it just felt suspended in time. Throughout his set and throughout Infinite Moment, there is a persistent feeling of moodiness, an intangible emotion that is preserved indefinitely, reverberating through the record’s 65 minutes. It’s a worthwhile journey, and one that asks the listener to surrender to peace. - DP

36. U.S. Girls - In A Poem Unlimited (4AD)

The 6th album from musician Meghan Remy as U.S. Girls is a self-described protest, like lots of her other work, but it’s an unlikely funky one. On In A Poem Unlimited, the experimental pop artist recorded with a live band and worked with co-producer Steve Chahley (Neko Case) to make a record that takes just as much from Parliament/Funkadelic and Sly & The Family Stone as it does art rock, tackling the power of patriarchal institutions and lauding the women fighting for some share of the power. But it also notably sympathizes with the everyday struggles women experience without wallowing, using its instrumentation as a celebration for a changing moment in time. It’s fitting that In A Poem Unlimited came out right after so many powerful men have finally faced the consequences of their actions because it dares to be joyous despite all reasons for despair.

Read the rest of our review here.

35. Let’s Eat Grandma - I’m All Ears (Transgressive)

I can’t help but think that the vitriol over the band name Let’s Eat Grandma has had a little to do with the fact that the music comes from two teenage girls. Sure, to some, the band name is the type of phrase that’s often followed with “that should be a band name,” but a simple Google search reveals that the phrase is often used as an example of why commas are important. It’s a tongue-in-cheek move made by the duo of Jenny Hollingworth and Rosa Walton, who have followed up their debut I, Gemini with I’m All Ears, an assured album of “experimental sludge pop”. Despite amazing production from Faris Badwan, SOPHIE, and David Wrench, the album is undeniably the duo’s. Its sequencing is perhaps the best of any album all year–it gets better as it goes along. The album itself follows many of its best songs; it starts cautiously and becomes ominous. And it couldn’t have been made by anybody but these two girls.

Read the rest of our review here.

34. Soccer Mommy - Clean (Fat Possum)

Sophie Allison’s debut Clean wraps you up in its world completely, with both its lyrics and warm guitar tones. It’s an album filled with anecdotes that feel personal and universal, the reflections and musings of a young woman navigating relationships of all kinds. It’s revelatory and familiar, soft and angular. Take the opening images of “Still Clean” and the way Allison positions dipping a bloody maw into clear water. Lyrically, the album vacillates between ”I don’t want to be your fucking dog” and “I wanna be the one who makes your stomach tied”, but it doesn’t reflect indecision. Rather, Allison captures what so many of us know so well, whether we’re in our early twenties or beyond: Our desires and relationships are never so simple, but always valid. There’s never a clear answer to the why of it all, but the album’s centerpiece, “Scorpio Rising”, seems to settle on the idea that experience and the chaos that is the universe and genetics might help explain some of it away: “And I’m just a victim of changing planets / My Scorpio rising and my parents.” That this is Soccer Mommy’s official debut can only bode well for the musician’s future output. - LL

33. Culture Abuse - Bay Dream (Epitaph)

Culture Abuse aren’t just a band. They’re a community, they’re on a mission, and their live shows are raucous indoctrinations into their world. Like their Bandcamp bio says, they’re definitely a good time, and Bay Dream’s sunniness feels like a drive down a coastal highway with salt-sprayed air flowing through open windows.

A little less aggressive than their debut Peach, Bay Dream comes in with a stoned, fuzzy optimism that ripples through each track. A song like “Bee Kind to the Bugs” might not work if frontman David Kelling and the rest of the band weren’t so damn earnest. A lyric like “S'why I like you around /' Cause you make me feel good” might not land without a hook, but Culture Abuse’s confidence shines. It’s an album I found myself turning to throughout the year, one that added a little bounce and ray of joy to a monotonous commute or even another rough news day. While Peach was an introduction to the world of Culture Abuse, Bay Dream feels more like is its manifesto. - LL

32. Playboi Carti - Die Lit (AWGE/Interscope)

2 years ago, before Playboi Carti’s debut commercial release, there existed only a small string of Soundcloud tracks to his name. There was an insatiable desire from fans to hear more; I recall playing “Broke Boi” on near-constant repeat. Its simple, airy beat and unending barrage of ad-libs, broken up only by a simple refrain, was so effective and perfect. Carti plays to these strengths--simplicity, energy, and raw confidence, paired with perfectly complementary beat selection--on Die Lit. Much of the production is handled by frequent collaborator P’ierre Bourne, who’s refreshing take on modern rap production has been making huge waves in the past couple years. The most important quality of Die Lit, though, is its completely unrelenting momentum. The beats are unendingly fun, and when Carti is done playing with a track, it moves right forward to more of the same sugar-high. Its frequent comparisons to punk are apt but reductive--the energy and ethos are there, but what Carti accomplishes on Die Lit is unique and a welcome entry in one of the strangest years for hip hop in awhile. Between its never ending joy and a long list of rap’s finest collaborators, Die Lit does so much with such simple terms. - DP

31. Emma Ruth Rundle - On Dark Horses (Sargent House)

To say that misery makes great art is all too fetishistic. Emma Ruth Rundle has made an incredible album about love, creativity, pain, and trauma all at once. Inspired by everything from her past experiences with substance abuse to her move to Louisville and musical and life partnership with Jaye Jayle’s Evan Patterson, Rundle and her collaborators (Patterson, bassist Todd Cook, drummer Dylan Nadon, recording artist Kevin Ratterman) turned On Dark Horses, her third studio album, into a crash, burn, and come out stronger emotional affair. They thrust you in the middle of her head-space on “Fever Dreams”, its bluesy, creepy guitars, keys, and drums starting like the song’s been going on for hours. “Release me away from fever dreams,” Rundle asks, knowing full well her confusion will not subside, as the song slows down in the middle to allow space for swirling, noisy, psychedelic riffs.

Read the rest of our review here.

30. Odetta Hartman - Old Rockhounds Never Die (Memphis Industries/Northern Spy)

Produced by her partner Jack Inslee, who combines beats and field recordings to give Hartman’s tales a sense of space, time, and place, Rockhounds is an album of clear, disparate elements that somehow combine beautifully. I’m not talking about the mere echo on the banjos of the opening track. More like the electronic percussion and static of “Cowboy Song” mirroring her foggy memories of riding a train from San Francisco to Chicago with a real cowboy, remembering his tales of people he met. It’s the unexpected dissonant violins and vocal entrances of the whispered “Widow’s Peak”, originally a studio mistake but resulting in a sense of spontaneity. Or the drifting instrumental autoharp interlude of “Auto”, the stainless steel bowl instrumental “Freedom”, even the electronic beat of “Sweet Teeth” that couldn’t be aesthetically further from the limber banjo picking.

Read the rest of our review here.

29. Mint Field - Pasar de las Luces (Innovative Leisure)

Sure, Pasar De Las Luces is ripe to be described as ethereal, nostalgic, Interpol-meets-Low–whatever. That’s all true. But a track like “Club de Chicas” separates them from the standard descriptors, starting slow with an echo on the snare and building up to a high-speed pop chase and exhaling back to stasis. In a sense, Pasar De Las Luces–translated to “Passing Through the Lights”–is really an album that encapsulates constant movement and texture, always advancing, always there.

Read the rest of our review here.

28. Wild Pink - Yolk in the Fur (Tiny Engines)

You know Yolk in the Fur is going to be unlike anything Wild Pink has ever made from the first breathy synthesizers. “Burger Hill” is a shift in aesthetic for the Brooklyn band who makes some sort of variation on heartland rock. What remains is their specificity, the sense of time and place that an equally expansive band like The War On Drugs only has on one or two songs. Singer John Ross, looking down, describes the setting as being in a “prenatal snow globe.” The image is layered and loaded–a scene in a life, neatly packaged and edited before it even starts. Throughout Yolk in the Fur, it seems like Ross no longer needs to make snow globes out of things that are infinite. “I woke up too fast from a dream,” he sings later on “Burger Hill”, starting his journey to accept the boundlessness of life.

Read the rest of our review here.

27. The Beths - Future Me Hates Me (Carpark)

You might think an album called Future Me Hates Me would be sadsack and self-aggrandizing. But like the title track from which it takes its name, it’s instead a tongue-in-cheek look at contemporary relationship anxiety. It also knows when to turn the sincerity on and off. New Zealand’s The Beths, jazz-trained musicians who play crunchy guitar pop punk, have delivered an instrumentally explosive and confident debut filled with harmonies, hooks, and feeling.

Read the rest of our review here.

26. Eric Chenaux - Slowly Paradise (Constellation)

Paris-via-Canada guitarist Eric Chenaux has given us his most confident, at ease, and best record with Slowly Paradise. Usually solitary, this time around, Chenaux teamed up with Ryan Driver to write the lyrics that sit atop his gorgeous compositions. He recorded it with Cyril Harrison behind the boards (Sandro Perri is credited with engineering work), and the results are as cohesive as they are adventurous.

Read the rest of our review here.

25. Eli Keszler - Stadium (Shelter Press)

The tone and melody of the synthesizers on “The Driver Stops”, a standout track from Eli Keszler’s latest album Stadium, recalls a film noir or mystery. That’s funny, because Keszler’s sonics cause similar quizzical reactions. Even if there’s a video of him playing it all live, Stadium yields the most “How did he do that?”s per minute. He plays his instruments live but uses Sensory Percussion drum software, and so the balance between control and randomness is vulnerable and ambiguous. Nonetheless, he’s managed to create a cohesive album of sounds inspired by his move to Manhattan--lots of randomness, little control--and specifically his East Village apartment. Some of the tracks, like “Measurement Doesn’t Change the System at All” and “Flying Floor for U.S. Airways”, feature buoyant jazzy snare rolls and ripples of one-off high-pitched synthesizer tone, anchored only by perhaps a steady bass line. No matter what, there’s always anxiety. Queasy Mellotron pervades “Lotus Awnings”, and the relentless plinking on “Which Swarms Around It” render the calming cymbals neutralized. Stadium is ironically named--it’s the huge soundtrack for living alone, together, for city commutes and unit isolation, where you do your best to drown out the noise but ultimately accept its inevitability. - Jordan Mainzer

24. Lucy Dacus - Historian (Matador)

“The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit, I had a coughing fit,” begins Lucy Dacus’ great new album Historian. You assume she’s talking about a first kiss only until the next line: “I mistakenly called them by your name.” It sets up an album that messes with your interpretation of time and space, about everything from her breakup with the abusive former bassist of her band, the death of her grandmother, and the loss of her Christian identity. Dacus, in preparation for a new record more ambitious in scope than her debut No Burden (1 track but 12 minutes longer) read epic novels. You can hear it in the complexity of the instrumentation, like on the 7-minute “Pillars of Truth”, and in the constant change of point of view or addressee. Sometimes, as on “Addictions”, she talks to herself. Other times, she chastises or admires others. The whole record is, to an extent, funny and self-deprecating. It’s mostly self-aware.

Read the rest of our review here.

23. Drug Church - Cheer (Pure Noise)

"At least there’s some self in self-destruction,” vocalist Patrick Kindlon sings on “Foam Pit”, one of many songs on Drug Church’s Cheer that chides corporatism and individualism. Like the best songs from Pissed Jeans or KEN Mode, Cheer is a self-hating, sarcastic, satirical take on the fragile masculinity present in both the economically oppressed and the oppressor. Opener “Grubby” hilariously decries both adult male children and the scumbags with “handshakes and lies” in their pockets. “There’s a guy with a search history darker than a sea trench,” Kindlon sings on “Unlicensed Hall Monitor”, the title character a perfect metaphor for undeserved power tripping. Sure, Kindlon shows some sympathy--the twinkling “Strong References” recalls his experience being pushed to uncomfortable situations as a male model, and “Weed Pin” is call to increase the minimum wage--but for the most part, the chugging hardcore punk perfectly complements the bratty nature of the subjects he inherits. “If you live long enough, you’ll do something wrong enough,” he sings on “Unlicensed Guidance Counselor” before describing crimes that, well, most people don’t commit. “Conflict Minded”’s illustration of selfishness, while on the surface level exaggerated, hits close to home. “Leave your Sentra in the tow lane / Take off from your brother’s wedding / Pull the plug on mom days early / This is your window, don’t you blow it,” Kindlon chants. If you don’t have that guy in your family or aren’t perpetually ashamed by narcissists in positions of power, Drug Church make it at least easy to empathize with their victims. - JM

22. Eartheater - IRISIRI (PAN)

What makes us human, and what makes us individuals? These admittedly unanswerable questions are at the center of IRISIRI, the third album for Queens-based multi-instrumentalist/vocalist Alexandra Drewchin as Eartheater. On the record, Drewchin combines voice--both her three-octave chords, live guests, and sampled chatter from humans--with electronics, to blur the lines between technology and the self. Despite her vocal talents, much of Drewchin’s singing is less stunningly operatic or beautiful and more imperfect and at times cacophonous, contrasting the beatific harp strumming on “Peripheral” and the bouncing hip-hop beat on “Inkling”. But despite who’s voice is at the helm, Drewchin’s lyrical wordplay furthers her aims. “OS In Vitro” juxtaposes “computer” with “you can’t compute her,” while on video-only release “Claustra”, Drewchin alternates between “the owning of my loneliness” and “the end of the loaning of my onliness,” cementing a non-ideal state like being alone as the more personal aim than the ideal companionship. Appropriately, despite star turns from Odwalla1221′s Chloe Maratta and the ever-dominant Moor Mother, IRISIRI is unequivocally Drewchin’s statement of self. “Nobody’s looking” repeats a collection of ambiguous, pitch-shifted voices on “Slyly Child”. But for Drewchin, it doesn’t matter who looks or who doesn’t. She’s there; are you willing to listen? -JM

21. Makaya McCraven - Universal Beings (International Anthem)

Universal Beings opens with chatter. Usually, on an album it’s a gimmick, a thematically forced insertion of a document of capital “a” Artists at work. “A Queen’s Intro”, however, is crowd talk before a performance, introducing the various levels of dialogue at work within Makaya McCraven’s defining album to date. The band players–in this case, cellist Tomeka Reid, bassist Dezron Douglas, vibraphonist Joel Ross, and harpist Brandee Younger–are in collaboration, improvising off of each other. There’s also a level of interaction between band and audience, though, and it’s a fitting introduction to an album that McCraven wished to break down barriers between “scenes” that can often be too academic, insular, and exclusive, whether in terms of social status, class, race, or gender. Launching into a decidedly old school hip hop beat and removing yet another barrier–genre–McCraven and company are ready to go to work.

Read the rest of our review here.

20. Tony Molina - Kill The Lights (Slumberland)

Got a 20 minute commute but still want to listen to a full album? Like power pop? Kill The Lights is for you. Tony Molina’s latest is not just a collection of fantastic spurts of ideas. I haven’t heard an album with this much emotion and style conveyed in such little time since Joyce Manor’s Never Hungover Again. The influences are all over the board--Molina favorite The Beatles on “Now That She’s Gone” and “When She Leaves”, jangly college rock on the melancholy “Give He Take You”, Nico’s “These Days” on the fingerpicked “Wrong Town”--but it’s the combination of the concision of Guided By Voices and the sweets of Big Star that makes Kill The Lights sound so classic. On “Look Inside Your Mind/Losin’ Touch”, Molina crams in two songs, organ-led pop to folk, with a guitar solo and piano outro to boot. The final track, the instrumental “Outro”, combines country-esque twang with baroque piano pop. You can’t help but wonder that if Molina packs this much in a 14 minute opus, does he have an epic in him? But then you realize that Kill The Lights is perfect as is. - JM

19. Laurel Halo - Raw Silk Uncut Wood (Latency)

A departure from previous efforts for the revered Hyperdub label, Raw Silk Uncut Wood is somehow more grounded than Laurel Halo’s dancefloor cuts. This comes through both in instrumentation from Oliver Coates and Eli Kezsler (previous collaborator and uniquely frantic percussion virtuoso), but also in the path these pieces take.These tracks are unfractured, moving forward and building in ways that are both calming and fulfilling. Raw Silk Uncut Wood is a record built upon a generous amount of space, allowing Halo’s excellent sense of texture and composition to take the reins. - DP

18. Rival Consoles - Persona (Erased Tapes)

The new album from Rival Consoles, Persona, is purportedly inspired by Ingmar Bergman’s film of the same name, but such context is not necessary. Persona is very much an album to experience in the present moment. Its use of analogue-heavy synthesizers, acoustic and electric instruments, and effects pedals toy with perception, space, light, and darkness. In listening to it, you experience emotions ranging from melancholy to joy, and for that, it’s complex in its parts but simple in its sum.

Read the rest of our review here.

17. Camp Cope - How to Socialise & Make Friends (Run for Cover)

With anger, earth-shattering power, and empathy, Camp Cope decry selfish and self-obsessed men, call out sexism in the music industry, and lift each other up--and that’s just in Track 1. “The Opener” is lead singer Georgia “Maq” McDonald’s simultaneous look back on her former relationship with The Smith Street Band’s Wil Wagner, who always tried to one-up her with his laments, and her rallying cry for inclusion. “It’s another man telling us we’re missing a frequency / Show ‘em, Kelly!” Maq screams, inviting bassist Kelly-Dawn Hellmrich to show off her bass chops, bucking tradition for something slinkier, rawer, and better. Recorded in 2.5 days, Camp Cope’s How to Socialise & Make Friends is a melancholic, yet inspiring statement of female empowerment and togetherness. “The Face of God” is Maq’s tale of sexual assault that illustrates a thought process all-too-common among victims, unforgivably due to a culture of toxic masculinity: It can’t be, his music is too good. Ultimately, the band do their part to combat it--“Your voice is loud in my goddamn head, boy,” Maq sings on “Animal & Real”--but also find a common humanity in good people, in the man filling a gas tank on Christmas day, in Maq’s mother who doesn’t like her tattoos, and in her late father who died from complications from prostate cancer. The last story is told on acoustic tearjerker closer “I’ve Got You”. “I’ve got you / You’ve got me, too,” Maq declares to her father, but also to anyone who supports her and each other. - JM

16. Petal - Magic Gone (Run for Cover)

Honesty is a word and a concept we seem to throw around these days, but it can save your life. Magic Gone documents a moment for Kiley Lotz, the artist behind Petal, where coming to terms with her own queerness and mental health comes to a head. But it’s that release, that moment of honesty and acceptance, that can change everything for the better, that can mean survival. “Will they love me if I am honest?” Lotz asks on “Carve”. It’s not just a document of a moment of reckoning for Lotz, but further cements Petal as a songwriter with a knack for poetry in lyrics and gentle, sometimes stark instrumentation that builds a world for those words to live. Take album closer “Stardust”, which begins with a sole, lilting piano that frames Kiley’s clear voice as the song builds. Though the song deals with the strangeness of falling out of love, there’s a sense of hope in the way the final line “I can’t say I didn’t love you,” repeats as guitars crash, only to give way to that same lone piano. - LL

15. Foxing - Nearer My God (Triple Crown)

Foxing has always been able to distill that apocalyptic feeling into their music, taking moments that seem small on the outside and making them monumental. Nearer My God is an expansion on the same idea. Named for the hymn that also soundtracks the dystopian doomsday video CNN was set to play at the literal end of the world, Foxing seem to take everything they can grab and push the limits of just how much one album can hold while not only remaining cohesive but remaining so purely Foxing, too. To simply call it ambitious feels like an understatement.

First single “Slapstick” eased listeners into this new soundscape, offering an approachable and familiar sound, horns coming in towards the end, always a highlight to a live show. But you can find almost every genre within the tracks of the album: Conor Murphy’s R&B-tinged falsetto on multiple tracks, near trap beats, the proggy chaos of “Gameshark”, the absolute shredding guitar solo in “Lich Prince”, and the wait-are-those-bagpipes?-yes-those-are-bagpipes climax of “Bastardizer”. That’s just a start, and to dive into the lyrics of the album would take much more space than this review.

Ever evolving, Foxing has made a statement with Nearer My God, taking the raw emotion fans know and stretching it with finesse. The apocalypse never sounded so foreboding, so danceable, and so damn good. - LL

14. SOPHIE - OIL OF EVERY PEARL’s UN-INSIDES (Transgressive/Future Classic)

The title of SOPHIE’s debut album is an alternate way of spelling “I love every person’s insides,” a sentiment that pervades the stunning release. First hinted at in 2017 with the release of “It’s Okay To Cry”, the first SOPHIE song to feature her own vocals and image and reveal she is living as a trans woman, OIL OF EVERY PEARL’s UN-INSIDES is a showcase of sexual liberation and aggression and a celebration of individuality. The maximalist production and soulful vocals from Calia Thompson-Hannant, aka Cecile Believe (fka Mozart’s Sister) of BDSM anthem “Ponyboy” propels the album into a sort of ironically synthesized humanity. The pitch-shifted vocals on “Infatuation” become a moving falsetto, and the chopped and screwed singing on “Not Okay” are grounded in comparison to the alien crunch of the instrumentation. But the album peaks at the cheerleader chant of “Immaterial”. “Without my legs or my hair / Without my genes or my blood / With no name and with no type of story / Where do I live?” sings Thompson-Hannant. The answer? Everywhere, as long as there are people who love people. - JM

13. Earl Sweatshirt - Some Rap Songs (Tan Cressida/Columbia)

Earl Sweatshirt has so long been mired by a mystique stemming from young stardom and talent that, for better or worse, has been hard to shake. And though we seem to have been granted glimpses into his true self on previous records, his greatest achievement to date, Some Rap Songs, leans fully and perfectly into the haze that surrounds his persona. His tongue-in-cheek wordplay and seemingly effortless delivery have drawn comparisons to the likes of Madvillainy. But the likeness is thin--Earl’s aim is not simply to toy with language and meter. There is an intangible but ever present mood that dangles in front of you through all 24 minutes of Some Rap Songs. Fractured jazz samples and static make up a wall of mist, with Earl peeking through for brief but brilliant nuggets of wisdom and personal anecdotes. - DP

12. Low - Double Negative (Sub Pop)

BJ Burton strikes again. Though he worked with Low on Ones and Sixes, it was this year’s Double Negative that was a true radical shift in sound for the band. Thematically, it’s inspired by everything from an injury Sparhawk suffered to the band members justifying their religion with liberal thought and today’s political world. But a sense of sadness, as always, presents itself through the stunning atmosphere. Alan Sparhawk’s voice oscillates, barely audible on the hissing “Quorum”, thumping “Dancing And Blood”, and whirring “Tempest”. Mimi Parker cries on the shimmering “Fly” and hymnal “Always Up”. But it’s “Always Trying To Work It Out” that actually combines the old and the new. Over a pseudo-hip hop beat and angular, warbling guitar, the two’s auto-tuned vocals flourish over a bed of swirling noise that could find itself on a previous record like The Great Destroyer. Looking back and looking forward, Low march on. - JM

11. Young Fathers - Cocoa Sugar (Ninja Tune)

With Cocoa Sugar, Young Fathers become cleaner and more accessible, but they want you to know it’s of their own volition. “Don’t you turn my brown eyes blue,” they sing on “Turn”, a song on an album about celebrating who you are in the face of people wanting you to change. Recorded in their studio, Young Fathers this time around opted for something both mellower and bigger than they’ve ever done, and the result is something immensely personal. “Tremolo my soul,” they chant over snares, hand percussion, and 808 pops. In other words, they crave the ups and downs of real life. “I’ve never seen wicked ones face their fears / Yet I’ve always seen brave men filled with tears,” goes opener “See How” on which dissonance contrasts with steady percussion and a hopeful gospel choir. Honesty and embracing oneself is way more difficult than self-deception, but it pays off. On closer “Picking You”, the trio add another element of Scottish music to their grime-influenced sound: bagpipes and drum rolls. If “good men are strange” and “bad men are obvious,” Young Fathers would take strange any day. - JM

10. Pusha T - Daytona (G.O.O.D. Music/Def Jam)

“I’m top 5″, Pusha T claims in the first words in the first verse of “What Would Meek Do?” He’s always been a braggadocio--this time, that’s not enough. On Daytona, Pusha crosses the line with unparalleled lyrical dexterity. Setting himself up with a couple tracks where--what else--he talks about his history hustling, he goes so far as to be thankful for addiction. On “Come Back Baby”, producer Kanye West starts with a sample of “The Truth Shall Make You Free” by The Mighty Hannibal (a song lamenting addiction) before Pusha reveals how much he makes off of dope. Even the album art--a photo of Whitney Houston’s bathroom taken after she died--is tasteless.

And then there’s “Infrared”, which has now infamously set off a chain of events wherein Pusha claimed Drake uses a ghostwriter, Drake responded with a lame freestyle, and Pusha annihilated him in “The Story of Adidon”, wherein he, among other things, said Drake fathered a child with a porn star (true) and makes fun of Noah “40″ Shebib’s Multiple Sclerosis. Even if “Adidon” were a part of Daytona, the album would still be the most eviscerating listen of the year in less than 30 minutes. Pusha didn’t even need to say he’s top 5. - JM

9. DJ Koze - Knock Knock (Pampa)

Perhaps not since this very site’s namesake has an album reached such sample-based bliss as DJ Koze’s Knock Knock. While The Avalanches’ opus was a crate digger’s paradise, Koze’s source material ranges from the familiar to the recognizable but still manages to make something entirely new out of it. Bon Iver’s voice is twisted over tropical techno thumps on “Bonfire”, while Gladys Knight provides equal parts sorrow and soul over immortal club anthem “Pick Up”. You’ve got Kurt Wagner’s trademark vocoder singing on “Muddy Funster” and Roisin Murphy’s wailing on the propulsive “Illumination” and growling “Scratch That”. But perhaps the most appropriate sample is on “Planet Hase”. Over skittering hi hats and hand claps, Koze takes dialogue from a documentary about Alzheimer’s in which someone pontificates on the need for music and art in achieving scientific breakthroughs. When we pay attention to the physicality of music and what it conjures within ourselves, we can achieve a sort of nirvana, argues Koze on the finest album of his career. - JM

8. Ovlov - Tru (Exploding In Sound)

For many, the expectations for Tru were uniquely immense. Ovlov’s cult status in the world of fuzzed out indie rock--rightfully earned through the adored AM--had left fans daydreaming of more from Steve Hartlett’s songwriting camp. And though the 5 year span has been punctuated by break ups and releases from the Hartlett-fronted Stove, we long awaited the signature blissed out wall of warm guitars and strained, yearning vocals that are unique to Ovlov. From the opening chords of “Baby Alligator”, Tru is a welcome invitation to experience a band’s unique sonic footprint, re-imagined through a matured sense of songwriting. Whereas AM explored a set of themes and icons or characters, Tru feels more obviously personal. Hartlett touches upon feelings of self-care and relationships, as he did in AM, but now with less of a sense of guardedness. You can always tell when he sings about himself and those around him, but the themes and references feel less obtuse. The band’s sonic palette is taken in more varied directions as well, from the screeching harmonics of “Half Way Fine” to the start-stop wail of “Stick”. Tru’s well-crafted blend of loud 90’s indie worship, shoegaze, and punk solidifies Ovlov’s place in the modern indie circuit. - DP

7. Janelle Monae - Dirty Computer (Atlantic)

Though not technically part of her collection of “android” albums, Janelle Monae’s Dirty Computer takes the theme of human vs robot to a head and adds sexuality to the mix. “Text message God up in the sky / Oh, if you love me, won’t you please reply?” Monae begs on the opener and title track. She struggles with embracing religion because of what many major religions have to say about non-straight people (Monae is pansexual), so Monae realizes that she has no choice but to love her self. “Crazy, Classic, Life” is a thumping anthem to queer black pride, while “Django Jane” is an all-rapped ode to her amazing accomplishments. Her message back is “accept me for who I am,” yes, but its her double entendre-laden ode to her own sexuality in which she finds power. “You fucked the world up now,” she sings on “Screwed”, before declaring, “We’ll fuck it all back down.” Of course, there’s “Pynk”, the Grimes-featuring, finger-snapping gem of a power pop song with a legendary video, that’s a tribute to the vagina, but over the course of Dirty Computer, Monae finds many different ways to say that whether or not our orientations are coded into our DNA, love is love. - JM

6. Objekt - Cocoon Crush (PAN)

An artist solidly known for his bold exploration of techno, Objekt now takes a plunge into a new kind of ethereal beauty on Cocoon Crush. A foray into ambient music, Objekt subverts a lot of what we have come to expect from him. The line between digital and analog is smeared. Tracks are ungrounded, punctuated still by percussion and synthesizers, but in patterns and textures that materialize in mysterious ways. And just as they appear, they stutter and morph in ways unexpected to the listener. The cold machinations of the dancefloor are still present; they are just stretched and masked in exciting and rewarding ways. - DP

5. Kacey Musgraves - Golden Hour (MCA Nashville)

We like Kacey Musgraves at SILY and included her last album Pageant Material as one of 2015’s best. So what is it about her that makes us continue to return to her music? With this year’s Golden Hour, she takes a step beyond her tongue-in-cheek takes on small town country living and branches out with a gorgeous collection of songs that look inward. It’s a bit of a “What does it all mean?” album, and Musgraves takes her time with each track, as she says on shimmering opener “Slow Burn”: “Old soul waiting my turn / I know a few things but I still got a lot to learn”. That’s not to say that she leaves that broad, hazy question completely unanswered. There’s her LSD-induced meditation on family on the minute-long “Mother”, or the gentle wonder she conveys at her surroundings on “Oh, What a World”, which sees the use of vocoder, adding another dimension to her “Spacey Kacey” nickname.

That’s not to say her knack for wordplay and tweaking tropes has faded to the background. It’s sharper here. Golden Hour shines a light on a disco ball during “High Horse” and heightens the timelessness of a “classic in the wrong way” fake John Wayne. “Space Cowboy” dares you to not crack a smile at the pause between the title’s two-word phrase as she tenderly sings, “You can have your space, cowboy”.

Yes, Golden Hour is a Kacey Musgraves album through and through, and the title encapsulates its themes so well: that flash of ethereal color in the sky, one that we can all see if we just take a moment to look up and savor it. - LL

4. Mitski - Be The Cowboy (Dead Oceans)

Mitski has found strength in the mythology of the Old West. Her latest album Be The Cowboy sees her wishing to embody the confident spirit of the title character in order to find her strength in music and relationships. Co-produced by Patrick Hyland, the album, like Puberty 2, is concerned with the body, and Mitski’s decision to replace guitars with synths allows her to feel empowered through dancing. She feels wanted on “Nobody”, and while she’s dependent on an ex in “Why Didn’t You Stop Me?”, the disco beat of the song steadies her. “Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart,” she begs on the bouncy “Washing Machine Heart”, constantly finding new and humorous ways to sing about emotional baggage.

Read the rest of our review here.

3. Saba - CARE FOR ME (Saba Pivot)

Saba’s CARE FOR ME gained prominence as a tribute to the Chicago rapper’s late cousin John Walt, but it’s also a personal record about being a young black man in America. Over warbling synthesizers and minimal, cloudy production perfect for storytelling, Saba alternates between raw stream of consciousness and meticulously arranged poetry to tell his story. Walt’s death, dealing with depression, anxieties about sex, and fear of police are some of the many themes that bookend the record. On “BUSY / SIRENS”, he raps, “Sirens on the way / Now you’re laying where the angels lay,” while the record ends with him stepping into the shoes of someone dying and on his way up to heaven ( “Chalk outline look like the shape of my shadow”). In between, he details how he’s stayed alive. With the directness and dryness of Vince Staples, he blatantly says, “Momma mixed the vodka with the Sprite / They killed my cousin with a pocket knife,” on “LIFE”. But what has he learned? Each of “FIGHTER”’s verses is dedicated to an altercation, whether physical or verbal, but more importantly, introspection about what happened and why its led him to abstain from negative conflict.

All the while, CARE FOR ME seems to be a breathing document of Saba discovering himself. “Wrote the amount of raps just on a mission to find something,” he declares on “CALLIGRAPHY”. He eventually details the circumstances surrounding Walt’s death on the climactic “PROM / KING”, but what’s important is while life is uncertain and violent, no matter our background, we’ll always have art to make sense of it all. - JM

2. Yves Tumor - Safe in the Hands of Love (Warp)

Yves Tumor’s patent interplay of noise with a brilliant sensibility for pop music is fully realized on Safe in the Hands of Love. To be clear, though, this is not a jarring dance between the two worlds. Whereas most music which could be hastily labeled as “noise” seeks beauty in harshness or through a violent deconstruction of what we know to be beautiful in music, Tumor expertly weaves grating, free-flowing chaos into a gorgeous whole, channeling R&B, hip hop, electronica, rock, and everything in between. Opener “Faith in Nothing Except Salvation”, with its stuttering horns and general sluggishness, somehow perfectly sets the stage for a record that feels cohesive despite its tattered and fractured parts. The following track, “Economy of Freedom”, explores a frightening soundscape, punctuated by low, rumbling bass and an ominous thud. It trods along patiently, slowly making way for angelic vocals, creating something that borders on hip hop while also resembling a Prurient track. “Noid”, while situated in this record, could stand on its own as a magnificent pop song. It’s bouncy sense of rhythm and unrelenting energy are twisted in directions both unexpected and rewarding. Tumor’s ability to gracefully merge all of his sonic talents together without seeming even a bit contrived makes Safe in the Hands of Love an unforgettable foray into experimental music. - DP

1. Noname - Room 25 (self-released)

Our #1 album of 2018 was born out of financial obligation, Noname having moved to L.A., living out of different hotel rooms, and struggling to pay rent. That this context birthed Room 25--an expression of a sexually awakened black woman and staunch observer of the world at large--is extraordinary. In between her debut Telefone and Room 25, Noname lost her virginity, something she doesn’t shy away from talking about on the latter. “Fucked your rapper homie, now his ass is making better music / My pussy teachin ninth-grade English / My pussy wrote a thesis on colonialism,” she spits on “Self”, calling out those who thought she couldn’t rap--many of whom rap only about sex and money--by rapping about sex and money better than they ever could. “Window” details her sexual encounters over sparse arrangements, strings, drums, and no real beat to emphasize her amazing flow. (“I bought you game 5 tickets / Made my pussy the sequel.”) And “Montego Bae”, featuring sultry sing-speaking from Ravyn Lenae, is a play on a location in Jamaica notorious for its sex tourism; Noname finds empowerment in a potential partner.

But as much as her deserved sexual braggadocio stands out on Room 25, it’s Noname’s self-evaluation that makes the record essential. In other words, before she can “focus on the part of me I’m trying to be,” she has to deal with open wounds. “You title email 'Noname thank you for your sweet Telefone / It saves lives’,” she reveals on the whispered “Don’t Forget About Me” before revealing, “The secret is I’m actually broken.” If posse cuts like “Ace” (featuring Smino and a scene-stealing Saba) and rap battle level punnery like “With You” are surface-level confidence, it’s the final track, “no name”, where Room 25 comes to a head. Explaining why she chooses to go by her ambiguous, anonymized moniker, Noname lists, “No name for people to call small or colonize optimism / No name for inmate registries that they put me in prison.” But if it initially seems like self-protection, it’s actually the most individualized moment on the record. By letting her art and words do the talking, Fatimah Warner makes a defining statement. - JM

2 notes · View notes