Annie Clark wrangles a myriad of vintage sounds and gives them a stunning contemporary sheen, but it is in service of a world unquestionably her own. David Bowie and Mia Wallace had a sweet baby girl and abandoned her in South Queens.
Squid take characteristics from krautrock, dub, funk, and jazz to form a sound that is remarkably coherent and wholly distinct. It’s chaotic, but it works.
All the great metal albums contain at least a small portion of cheese. Fortitude is similar to a mild cheddar. Versatile, resilient and, sometimes, unbeatable.
Where others might layer up to obscene degrees, Stott has a knack for finding beauty in minuscule details. It’s practically ambient music for club-goers.
The record takes listeners on a spectacular musical safari, zipping between genres without ever feeling the slightest bit disjointed.
Another commanding and deft iteration of Godspeed’s lauded post-rock style. Although lacking the range of previous records, it still offers space to think.
A rock record produced like a dance record, with endless amounts of saturation and compression applied to, well, everything. This is a failed experiment.
From brotherly estrangement to Fabergéal financial ruin to dental calamity, Bleeding Gums’ soulful howling and gravelly tone is magnificient.
Vintage Del Rey (in both senses of the word), though the curious thing about the record is that it flies highest when she sounds least like herself.
An epic poem in LP form, throughout Cohen embraces a brutal honesty that, although daunting on the surface, reminds you that bleakness can be beautiful.