Hater’s Delight – 2025 Edition
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It’s hard to look around lately and think ‘You know what the world could use more of? hate.’ Of course there’s an abundance of hatred, animosity, division, and destruction right now. I’d argue it’s our number one export.
Every morning I wake up with a pit in my stomach, scrambling for meaning and stability as I take in a torrent of crushing news alerts, outright rejections, and full-scale desperation. It all feels uniquely bad, and the idea of adding more negativity on top of that doesn’t feel like a way out.
What does feel like a way out is leaning on each other. Finding strength in those around us who feel the same way and raising our voices together in displeasure. As much as I am a lover and an enjoyer and an optimist, it’s hard to deny the deep-down primal satisfaction of being in the presence of people who feel the same way about the same things and venting together. It’s not a solution to every problem, but damn it feels good to let it out.
We’re going to zoom into the same corner of the world that we always operate in, which is to say we’re going to take a break from recommending music we like and think you should listen to in order to focus our attention on parts of this ecosystem that have rotted beyond repair. Just as Mood Machine exposed the evils of Spotify (now fully out in the open), this all feels symptomatic of larger issues. We may only be talking about one thing that might seem insignificant on the surface, but dig deep enough and you’ll find it’s tied to something deeper. Join us as we uproot the evil together and voice our unhappiness with The Current Arrangement. Hopefully whatever’s on the other side looks better than this.
The Genericization of Metalcore or: When Genre Labels Break Down
I hate genres. I hate the way that, as culture shifts and evolves, genres fail to recognize change until it's too late. I hate the endless gatekeeping that comes with a genre reaching new audiences and thus redefining itself. So, I plead: just be normal.
Metalcore, originating as a style that blends extreme metal and hardcore punk, has evolved from being a niche genre to a commercial behemoth that’s reached the general public, netting radio hits, Grammys, and sold-out arenas. For a brief crash course, I recommend listening to Converge’s “Effigy,” a grindy, guitar-forward track full of distorted screaming and flying instrumental parts. It’s heavy on the hardcore drumming and metal riffs, blending the two effortlessly for a perfect example of “classic metalcore.”
For something completely different, queue up Sleep Token’s “Caramel,” a song that many would class as “post-metalcore” or “Octanecore.” If you're listening to this one and thinking, ‘this doesn't sound like the other example at all,’ you’d be right. This is the shape much of metalcore has taken in the 2020s – trading riffs and brutality for commercially viable melodies, synth beds, and pop song structures with the occasional breakdown thrown in to remind audiences that they still want the metalcore label.
These songs clearly don't belong in the same genre, musically or culturally. This leads to old-school metalcore fans feeling upset that their spaces are being invaded by bands that don't resemble the genre they love, while new fans are upset because they aren’t being allowed inside the tent.
The gatekeeping is what really grates on me. Open up and allow new things inside. Perhaps you'll appreciate having variety, new friends, and a greater community that can raise all ships. We simply want to share in the fun while being introduced to music that expands our palates. Instead of closing the gate behind you, show someone new Better Lovers and invite them in. That’s what I'm going to do.
– Noëlle Midnight
Stop teasing me like I’m a child
I can not tell you how excited I was when Gouge Away returned in May 2023 with “Idealized,” five years after their last album, Burnt Sugar. I can not tell you how annoying it was to wait until JANUARY 2024 for their third record, Deep Sage, to be announced and see “Idealized” on the tracklist. So many bands are utilizing a strategy like this: dropping one single and pretending it is a loosie, then a month or two later announcing their next record, including said prior single. Jeff Rosenstock did it with “Liked U Better” and Hellmode, Mannequin Pussy did it with the title track of I Got Heaven, and I’m sure Courtney Barnett is doing it now with whatever album “Stay In Your Lane” will be on. It’s like we’re pretending Santa exists: ‘Oh we got a single, I wonder what this is related to, teehee.
All of this does immediately go away once the album is out. No one but nerds like me will remember when a random single dropped; the context of the album will outweigh this complaint in the FOREVER after release… But why do we have to wait that long for the context?
Be a grown-up. Announce your fucking album. Or give me a B-side as a little treat.
– Lillian Weber
Not Everyone Needs A Country Album
The resounding opinion of your favorite local bar band goes something like this: “I love country music, but only the real stuff. Waylon, Willie, and Johnny. Not any of that bro country or stadium country.” Okay, I understand the sentiment that Ticketmaster country or coworker country doesn’t feel as genuine as the genre’s flagship men and women of the ‘60s and ‘70s, but I have no reason to deny myself a few actually great songs by Brad Paisley or Blake Shelton, Kelsea Ballerini, or Maren Morris. What I do feel isn’t genuine is every mega pop star getting their piece of the country radio pie. Beyoncé, Post Malone, Chappell Roan, Sabrina Carpenter, reportedly Lana Del Rey, and a slew of other already-hitmakers have been crossing over to cowboy hat territory since the once-primarily Middle American sound started bleeding out of every grocery store speaker across the nation. I actually commend Taylor Swift for staying in a traditional pop lane in her stratospheric rise, as opposed to reverting back to her original style, although it’s possible that streak may end soon.
Five years ago, Halsey scored one of her biggest career hits with “You Should Be Sad,” an indirectly country-influenced emo-pop track that had a heavy western saloon theme in its music video and Saturday Night Live performance, both of which may be in the top five all-time clips of a singer looking head-spinningly stunning on camera. I think, secretly, this was the genesis of the POP pop country boom of the 2020s, just like Lana Del Rey’s “Video Games” music video and infamous SNL clip was the secret genesis of the moody, sad girl pop star streak of Billie Eilish, Clairo, and, well, Halsey. I love country music in most of its forms, but there’s definitely enough of it out there, and I have no use for a saturated sound from new millionaire adopters.
– Logan Archer Mounts
Take a Breath
This is going to sound fucking insane to say as a guy who runs a music blog where we often post reviews on the day of an album’s release, but I think people need to chill out on the sweeping declarations. This applies to everything from the hyperbolic Geese claims to the outright dismissal of anything that doesn’t immediately “hit” or cement itself as part of the zeitgeist.
Some of my favorite albums this year have been comforting and slow-simmering records that have grown on me gradually over time and with repeated listens. On first brush, these albums can appear reserved or down-the-middle, but that kind of dismissal is not one of a music fan, merely someone trying to have a take for attention, engagement, and affirmation.
By rushing to these types of claims, you’re closing any sort of ongoing relationship with the art. One of my favorite things about music (and one of its most mystical aspects) is the imperceptible way a band, album, or song can infiltrate your existence and morph over time, growing in importance or association as it reflects off different things in your life. Having a knee-jerk reaction to the popular thing forces you into this game of extremes, potentially shutting yourself off from a more rich and complex experience. I suppose I’m telling this to myself, too.
Part of me understands in a world that’s ever-accelerating, where tens of thousands of artists (both real and fake) upload songs every day. The desire to overreact is appealing, to break through if nothing else. Even when this very site publishes a review of an album on the day that it releases, there’s an implicit understanding that the writer has spent time with this record digesting the music, is recommending it for some reason or another, but is ultimately presenting it as an option for you to take off into your own life so you can formulate your own unique connection to it. To me, that makes way more sense as a way to approach art, not immediately exalting something as the best thing ever or brushing a release off as mid after a cursory listen. Give yourself time. Go back and revisit an album you forgot about. Spend time with a record and develop an understanding of it through an ongoing relationship between yourself and the music. I promise it’s much more rewarding than rushing to be the first one to make a bold claim.
– Taylor Grimes
Don’t Even Think About Changing That Album Cover
Back in my day, you only got one album cover, and that was it. It was unthinkable to even suggest a different one, maybe with the exception of a cool deluxe version for the superfans. But something bad shifted this year.
I have identified three categories of album cover changes: the Overly Online, the Re-Do, and the Variants. The Overly Online album cover change is mostly an Internet phenomenon, a product of a music culture dominated by streaming; a prime example is Charli xcx BRAT-ifying her other albums for like a year. The Re-Do is when an artist totally changes their cover. This is pretty rare, but Lucy Dacus did it earlier this year for Forever is a Feeling. I agree with her that the new one looks better than the original, but no takesies backsies. “because… I want to and I can!” has to be the dorkiest thing any artist has posted all year, and I am a Lucy fan! The Variants is obviously whatever Taylor Swift is doing — multiple official covers for one album. She’s been doing this for a while, but her latest album cycle was the most overwhelming. Sabrina Carpenter also opted for Variants while courting controversy over the original Man’s Best Friend cover. If you’re going to be controversial, at least stick with it. Don’t release like three other regular versions, I thought this meant something to you.
I just think it's such a pathetic thing to do. Switching a cover makes me think that you’re not confident in your album at a minimum or insecure about your art at a maximum. We are trapped in a world that demands content, but you do not have to cave to the mob with more covers! We are stuck with streaming for the foreseeable future, but you don’t have to change a cover just because the website has a setting that lets you! Everything is fleeting, stand by that damn cover and for the love of God, do not edit your songs!!!!!!
– Caro Alt
The Dichotomy is Crazy
Every time I visit my corner of the internet sphere, I experience the fleeting hope that I won’t come across another mediocre Punk-Goes-Pop-style cover on my Explore or fyp page. And without exception, that hope is immediately crushed as a video of yet another alternative man in Carhartts and a condom beanie asks the camera, “What if [insert any pop song here] was pop-punk?” I groan and throw my phone across the room as I’m blinded by rage. These all sound the same. Can’t any of you people come up with an original idea that isn’t ‘Pop Song Becomes Pop-Punk Song’? The obvious perpetrators of this trend need to get back in the studio and write their own music. I am begging them to look inward and come up with a chord progression of their own. Girls aren’t going to think you’re complex because you listen to Sabrina Carpenter. “Manchild” was never intended to be pop-punk. Stop trying to make fetch happen. It’s not going to happen.
– Britta Joseph
Colored Contacts
I haven’t seen the Bruce Springsteen movie, and I won’t, because Bruce Springsteen has brown eyes, and they couldn’t trouble themselves to cast someone with brown eyes. I refuse to engage with colored contacts on any level.
To anyone involved in the choosing of colored contacts in any capacity, ever: You think we can’t tell they’re contacts? We’re not stupid!!!!!!!
– Katie Hayes
Blowing up and acting like you don’t know your old albums
I was very excited to see that one of the best bands in Minnesota was finally gearing up to release a second record. Gully Boys, the Twin Cities quartet-via-trio, has held a steady and special place in the heart of the local scene since they proudly declared their existence with 2018’s LP, Not So Brave. Singles, tours, and two stellar EPs came and went, until the early 2025 announcement of Gully Boys, the group’s… debut??
At some point, every digital version of Not So Brave was affixed with a new, undermining addendum: (Demos). This isn't the first example of a band seemingly trying to hide their early music by abandoning it to a fate of digital flotsamhood. To name a couple more examples, both 2025 Indie Rock Discourse Champs™ Geese and Wednesday have disowned their debuts. Rechristening one’s first major release, recorded at arguably MN’s most famous studio, as just a bunch of demos is an interesting attempt to have your cake and juggle it too—maximizing the promotional synergy of a faux-first LP without completely deleting the past.
I would chalk most of it up to the need for narrative. It’s not the Boys’ fault that parasocial attachment and relentless engagement are the only non-freak-accident ways to grasp at success. The new album, technically GB’s second self-titled release, is excellent. The quartet finally feels like a quartet. Every hook gleams with grungy radiance. Despite or maybe because of it, Gully Boys doesn’t sound like a debut. The years of work—getting in the van, community organizing at home, writing and recording — are blisteringly apparent. Especially after covering the band for years, the most satisfying aspect of Gully Boys is the improvement, the sharpening, the palpable joy of ever-deepening collaboration. Rewriting your discographical history via misdirection only masks how hard you worked to get here.
– aly eleanor
Streaming’s Steroid Era
Welp, it appears we’ve officially entered the “steroid era” of album sales. In Young Thug’s leaked jailhouse tapes, the Atlanta rapper embraced the role of neighborhood gossip, spilling piping hot tea on everyone from Outkast to Drake and even Kendrick Lamar. Between the prison chatter, something stood out to me like a sore thumb on a hand model. Young Thug admitted to spending $50K on fake streams for Gunna, an artist on his label at the time, to debut at #1 over The Weeknd’s Dawn FM. What happened to the game I love? Next to Adam Silver’s insistent greed that is ruining basketball, this is the next biggest scandal in my world.
If an artist like Young Thug can brazenly go about botting streams for one of his artists, what’s stopping literally any other record label, especially the large ones, from doing that very same thing? I don’t know what or who to believe anymore when news comes across my desk about an artist selling an extraordinary number of records. At least during the “steroid era” in baseball, we got to see dingers being pimped out over 500-plus feet. This “steroid era” is just fake numbers going up higher than other fake numbers, and that feels cheap, slimy, and uncompelling to say the least.
– David Williams
Production Should Suck More
More music needs to have shittier production. Crisp, pristine production used to make sense for radio-oriented music: artists wanted their work to be as clear and perfect-sounding as possible in order to appeal to as many listeners as possible. In the clutches of the streaming era, there needs to be more interesting choices than making everything sound like a polished plastic water cup at Denny’s. Even music in the DIY space has taken on a timbre that sounds too nice for a freak like me—someone who wants to listen to music with some heckin’ character. Steve Albini was onto something in his attempts to capture sounds exactly how they are instead of just trying to polish an artifact. The former is a photograph, while the latter sits unappreciated on a shelf. If a production too polished flies too close to a generic sun, it burns up in its atmosphere. I would rather freeze in the dark shadow of an imperfect moon.
– Joe Wasserman
Down with the Bits
I’m so tired of the gimmicks and the skits. The Sallys, the Junos, the Apple Girls, the Johannas, and whatever improv from hell Sombr is doing making teenage girls call their fellow teenage exes mid-concert in what logically can only be an effort to eat up time. Addison Rae pulls audience members onstage to scream with her during the “Von dutch” remix. PinkPantheress plucks a boy from the crowd each night to be her “Romeo.” They’re fan service at best and Hail Marys to appease the algorithm at worst, all born out of the hope that one more viral Pop Crave clip will keep the tour relevant.
It’s different from Justin Bieber’s fanfic-worthy “One Less Lonely Girl” schtick, or Janet Jackson “making miscellaneous uncs shoot poison on stage” in the early aughts. It’s also different from Lady Gaga getting the kid in the orange shirt on stage for the “Schieße” dance break at the Born This Way Ball. The former two, Jackson especially, were way before clips on Twitter had an actual impact on public discourse, let alone ticket sales. Bieber was leaning into his teen heartthrob, while Gaga’s was a serendipitous moment of recognition for one special longtime Little Monster, a shooting star in the greater Monster canon.
All I ask is that everyone start to exercise a little more restraint. Lean into the element of surprise, uncertainty, and possibility. How many mid-40s actresses need to pretend they know the words to that Role Model song before we can all admit we’ve never heard it before? Wasn’t it painful enough when it was The Dare??? How many more sex positions are we going to make Sabrina Carpenter think of???? I’m tired.
– Cassidy Sollazzo
Notes App =/= Promotion
Apparently Instagram has started pushing anything Notes app-related higher in the algorithm, which has cascaded into artists, bands, celebrities, and anyone with something to say (or, more than likely, a lack thereof) utilizing the app to try to get in front of people. Your notes app is for your grocery lists, not for your apologies, announcements, or aggrandizements. Unless you’ve actually got something to say, you don’t have to push that stupid Calibri-whatever font onto your followers. It feels almost like a form of mockery. It’s a strange and truly terminally online type of thing to feel any sort of way about. We know you didn’t rob the Louvre, you don’t have to post about your whereabouts through that stupid app to get your dopamine fix. Go type in a Word document!
– Samuel Leon
Geese are Making Me Feel Old
It’s not about Geese, it’s about me. I really enjoy the new Geese album, Getting Killed. It's so good! We all know this, but throughout the hyped rollout and far-flung claims upon the album’s release, I felt myself feeling weird about it. I couldn’t figure out why, and that really bothered me. Then, I saw footage from their free show in Brooklyn, and it all became clear. It wasn’t that I couldn’t be there in Brooklyn for the show; it was because seeing all of those kids together celebrating what seems to be “the band” of their generation helped me to understand that I’ve aged. I’m not ancient, I’m in my early thirties, but this is the first time I’ve had to grapple with the fact that I’m no longer a part of “the youth,” and that makes me feel weird and uncertain. I feel like I’ve transitioned from being an active participant to more of a witness. I can go to a Geese show, but it would be in poor taste for me to weasel my way into a space up front because that’s for the kids. This is their moment.
– Connor Fitzpatrick
ISO: Better Band Names, Better Bands
Every day I get emails (I could just end the entry there tbh) about bands with the most uninspired, nothingburger-no-cheese names ever. All love to Shower Curtain and Computer and Guitar, but your names do not live up to the music they’re representing. All love to Wednesday, whose frontwoman Karly Hartzman has publicly rejoiced the ungoogleability of her band’s name, especially after the success of Netflix’s Addams Family spinoff of the same name, and one throwaway bit in another Netflix show in which Wednesday was literally the name of a band that doesn’t exist.
The rule of thumb is that if your band is good enough and/or the bit is funny enough, you can have a generic-ass SEO-unfriendly name (the search results for “Geese Getting Killed” used to be much more violent, even though now what comes up is sometimes related to having a bomb in your car). But as for the rest of you, don’t come into MY humble inbox telling me I just HAVE to listen to the sprawling and ethereal new shoegaze record from a Philly band called “Couch.” Yes. I just made that shit up because it’s easy to come up with a bullshit one-word band name when you spend exactly two seconds thinking of a band name. Couch, the band does not exist, or maybe they do, either way, I have no fucking way of knowing because googling “Couch band” is probably not gonna yield any worthwhile results. Besides, how sprawling and ethereal can a band called Couch even be?
My other gripe is that no one knows how to do an album rollout anymore. If you release eight singles ahead of an eleven-song album, I hope your next tour is an endless hurricane of tomatoes.
– Grace Robins-Somerville
