February 26, 2026

Cover Collector – February Reds

February 26, 2026/ The Swim Team

I don’t know about you guys, but I love a good album collage. One of the first things I do every Friday is head over to tapmusic.net and render a 4x4 chart of the albums I listened to most over the past week. At the end of each month, I do the same thing with a 5x5 that recaps my previous 30 days of listening. By the time December rolls around, I look forward to recapping the last twelve months with a gigantic 10x10 grid in an unwieldy encapsulation of the 100 albums that defined my year.

Is it a little self-aggrandizing? Sure, but it’s also a fun way to see a quick snapshot of what my last week, month, or year has sounded like. At its best, this practice has led to fun conversations and solid recommendations going back and forth with friends as we bond over specific albums. Sometimes it’s that shared love over a deep pull from years gone by, other times it’s just noticing trends with a recent fave that seems like an unshakable presence week in and week out. At the very least, I suppose it’s satisfying to see a bunch of records that I feel an affinity toward lined up and embodying a specific stretch of my life.

At some point near the tail end of last year, I conceived of a more communal way to bring this love of album collage to life. Because, sure, getting a live readout of your listening history is cool, but this is also about album art, an essential part of the experience and something us nerds can fixate on just as much as the songs that sit beneath the cover. As such, I’m excited to welcome you to the second edition of Cover Collector: a monthly installation where the Swim Team discusses some of our favorite albums based on album color. For February, we’re writing about amorous reds.

Tinted Windows – Tinted Windows

We can stop making pop music. We already reached pop perfection in 2009. Oh, you don’t remember? That’s okay — do the names Adam Schlesinger and James Iha ring a bell? What about Taylor Hanson and Bun E. Carlos? Does Josh Lattanzi mean anything to you? Well, it all should. It’s 2026, and I am demanding a cultural re-evaluation of Tinted Windows by Tinted Windows.

I would go so far as to say that this supergroup released the best pop album of the 21st century. This is the kind of confidence I have to maintain if I am fulfilling my duty to defend this forgotten band’s honor. But this is an easy task to maintain when I’m dealing with an album that has “Kind of a Girl,” “Can’t Get a Read on You,” “Doncha Wanna,” and “Take Me Back.” All of these songs are loud, goofy, tight, and perfect — a knockout Schlesinger combo uplifted by Hanson’s sheer excitement to Not Be A Hanson along with a litany of power pop veterans. The song nearest and dearest to my heart is “Messing With My Head,” which has been my favorite song for almost 20 years. It’s all about the guitars; the incessant riff chugging under the song, the squeal of the strings replying to Hanson’s pleas, the guitar solo before Hanson’s pronunciation of “you” in the bridge. Pitchfork unfairly gave this a 3.5, but with your help and a $5 subscription, we can get that reader score up to a 10.

– Caro Alt

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard – Nonagon Infinity

Nonagon Infinity is a rare album whose title and cover art mirror its structure. Nine songs, each represented by one vertex of the nonagon on the cover art, are designed to be looped infinitely, with the last track seamlessly connecting to the first. Each vertex of the nonagon connects to every other vertex of the nonagon, instructing the listener that you're supposed to view every song as being connected.

Nonagon Infinity marked a shift for the seven-piece Australian multi-genre experiment, as eight albums into their career they departed from the psych, jazz rock, raja rock, dream pop, and garage rock that they were known for, taking a mishmash of those elements that defined the albums prior to this and twisting them into something louder, darker, and more energetically exhausted than anything we’ve seen before.

This was the band's first experiment with heavier music, a theme we’d see expanded later in their career with the albums Infest the Rats Nest and PetroDragonic Apocalypse. From the first notes of “Robot Stop,” you hear the intensity come through, as vocalist and lead songwriter Stu Mackenzie opens with a chorus that recurs throughout the whole album, not just this song. It’s fast, it’s energetic, it’s designed to start a mosh pit, and it’s in 7/4.

As Stu opens the album singing “my body’s overworked” and “my coffin’s all I see lately,” we begin to get the feeling that the band is tired. They've spent the past four years releasing eight albums while touring, and they're ready to take a break, which, from the future, we know never comes. They follow this album with a five-album year, spanning microtonal music, narrative progressive metal, psychedelic pop, polymeters, and more.

Nonagon Infinity opens the door to the rest of King Gizzard's work and stands as a fantastic entry point if you love heavier music and want to start digging into this ultra-prolific band’s extensive discography.

– Noëlle Midnight

The The – Dusk

For years, I have spouted that the two most underrated bands of all time are Shriekback and The The, and I still wholeheartedly believe that. Both are British new wave-turned-alternative rock groups that started in the 80s, developed minor club play success in the States, but each only had two albums in the 90s. For The The, the brainchild of musician Matt Johnson, most people champion their first two albums: 1983’s Soul Mining, featuring classics like “This Is The Day” and “Uncertain Smile,” and 1986’s Infected, whose title track is easily one of the hardest rocking dance singles of the era. My favorite in their relatively compact catalogue has always been 1993’s Dusk, a more guitar- and singer/songwriter-based album that expertly helms the band’s transition into a new decade.

The record opens with one of my all-time favorite three-song runs: the dramatic, partially spoken-word “True Happiness This Way Lies,” the hopeful ballad “Love Is Stronger Than Death,” and the blues-influenced single “Dogs Of Lust.” Johnson’s reflections on the world and his place in it on tracks like “Slow Emotion Replay” and “Bluer Than Midnight” have always resonated with me, and the closing track “Lonely Planet” hits as hard in 2026 as it did whenever I first heard it: “If you can’t change the world, change yourself,” the refrain posits. The The would only be sporadically active after this album, including a 2024 comeback album, Ensoulment, and a tour to support it. While I appreciate everything Johnson does musically, Dusk will always be the high watermark.

– Logan Archer Mounts

Citizen – As You Please

Everybody and their mother talks about Youth as the quintessential Citizen record, and for a second, I was going to write about that as well. However, I wondered what else needed to be said about Youth, considering their third record, As You Please, is sneakily just as well written and not as sneakily much more red. Citizen’s movement into hazier forms of alternative rock was encapsulated quite well in their first two records, but As You Please showcased the gravitas of their emotional outlook on the world in a more mature way than Youth, though not as crushing as Everybody Is Going To Heaven. Tracks like “Jet” and “Fever Days” get the heads bobbing, but the spacey tracks like “World” and “Control” feel more akin to a Sunday Drive tracklist than a typical Run For Cover record. There’s also the fan favorite “Flowerchild,” which caps the record off with an acoustic-turned-punk anti-Valentine’s Day song. It’s a great journey to dive headfirst into and an overlooked example of what makes Citizen such an interesting group.

– Samuel Leon

The Jimi Hendrix Experience – Electric Ladyland

When I was a mere toddler, my parents would play all kinds of records to help me develop my own distinct musical taste. There was one artist my mom chose that stood out amongst the rest for a fresh-out-the-box baby David: Jimi Hendrix. Every day I would dance away in my all-white Huggies to songs like “All Along the Watchtower” and “Foxey Lady.” My mom has recounted this story about me prancing around to some of the best psychedelic rock ever created about a zillion times to my family, friends, and even complete strangers at the local Jewel-Osco. Fun times! Present day, now as a fully grown adult, I hold Jimi Hendrix in a special place in my heart.

Electric Ladyland, being the final full-length studio album before Jimi Hendrix tragically passed away, is a clinical masterpiece in artistry. “Voodoo Child (Slight Return)” has my favorite guitar solo I’ve ever heard. There is a true rhythm to each stroke that I never know where it’s going to go, even though I heard it thousands of times. Jimi Hendrix is the Wilt Chamberlain of rock music. He changed how the game is played, holds damn near every record, and oozed pure charisma (do yourself a favor and look at that beautiful blue silk kimono he wore on The Dick Cavett Show).

Listening back to Electric Ladyland, you can hear how Hendrix's guitar skills were limitless. Songs like “Long Hot Summer Night,” “Gypsy Eyes,” and “Rainy Day, Dream Away” are iconic psychedelic jams from a man at the peak of his powers. This makes reliving all those stories dancing as an infant worth it.

Thank you, Mom!

– David Williams

Third Eye Blind – Third Eye Blind

I confess to being a silly guy for this one. I spent an entire subway commute scrolling through my library for my red album. When I happened upon Third Eye Blind’s eponymous 1997 debut, I felt ridiculous: it was always this one.

I saw 3EB at Jones Beach when I was nearing the end of my college career. I went with an on-again, off-again girlfriend; we’d had a complicated relationship due to our own traumas and the challenges of growing up. Now that I recall this memory, I feel the rain pouring on my skin, mixing with my tears as they played “Motorcycle Drive By” and “How’s It Going to Be.” In my mind’s peripheral vision, I recall her looking up at me with love and sadness. Only now do I realize that this night together and this concert we shared were the end of our relationship. It was beautiful, and now I look back on it fondly and with gratitude.

Only now, too, do I realize how meaningful and formative this album was and continues to be for me. Everyone sings along to “Semi-Charmed Life,” “Graduate,” and “Jumper,” but the singles are truly just the tip of the iceberg. “Losing a Whole Year” is an incredible opener, bookended by the equally gutting and somber “God of Wine.” “I Want You” translates lustful love into perfect pop rock—only for “The Background” to finish the story with the perfect break-up ballad right after it. How is a band’s debut this good? I remain flabbergasted by it.

As thankful as I am that this album soundtracked my growing up, I’m grateful to be able to listen to it now, sing along, and feel all the emotions without the pain of nostalgia. Instead, there is only awe.

– Joe Wasserman

Fiona Apple – When the Pawn…

When the pawn hits the conflicts he thinks like a king
What he knows throws the blows when he goes to the fight
And he'll win the whole thing 'fore he enters the ring
There's no body to batter when your mind is your might
So when you go solo, you hold your own hand
And remember that depth is the greatest of heights
And if you know where you stand, then you know where to land
And if you fall it won't matter, cuz you'll know that you're right

My love for Fiona Apple’s second album knows no bounds. It came to me at a very ~mental breakdown~ time in my life. I was 22, the same age Apple was when the record came out, and was equally masochistic and self-sabotaging. I felt like a floating head, watching my life unfold while I did nothing, unable to even consider having a positive thought. The saunteringly propulsive opener, “On The Bound,” became my favorite song to play on a loop while lying on my bedroom floor and staring at the ceiling. Any album with “Paper Bag” on it is going to be good (the line “He said ‘It’s all in your head’ / I said ‘So’s everything’ but he didn’t get it” alone should have gotten Apple a Pulitzer), but When the Pawn… is relentless from top to bottom. “Fast As You Can” makes me lose my breath with its urgency, kicking into overdrive after the looping drawl of “A Mistake.” Apple gets to the heart of both relational and internal toxicity, showing she’s fighting a battle with herself just as much as with the rest of the world. The smile she’s flashing on the blood-red cover masks the inner turmoil rumbling beneath.

– Cassidy Sollazzo

Kyuss – Blues for the Red Sun

When I think of red albums, my mind pretty quickly jumps to Songs For The Deaf by Queens of the Stone Age. It’s mainly because that record utterly blew my mind in middle school and continues to loom large in my life to this day, but it’s also because it’s pretty solidly red. While I entered this document fully prepared to write about one of the greatest records of 2002, I was met with a sudden flash to another Josh Homme project from a decade earlier, and that’s Blues for the Red Sun by Kyuss. On their sophomore record, the foundational stoner rock band tightened their screws in a stair-step discography where I truly view each record as a step above the last. On their debut, Wretch, the band arrived scuzzy, caked in beer and desert dust. One album later, they got druggier and spacier, dropping most of the thrashy elements in favor of chasing the almighty riff. From the opener, “Thumb,” it’s clear the band has honed in on the perfect tone and then proceed to spend the next 45 or so minutes slowing things down, stretching things out, and cranking their amps to earth-shattering levels. There’s still some chugginess like the iconic “Green Machine,” but tracks like “Freedom Run” and “Thong Song” show a surprising amount of restraint (shocking, especially given the latter’s title). Rather than throw every note at the listener in an attempt to whisk them off into heavy metal nirvana, Kyuss learned it’s much more gratifying to go the opposite way and descend into the smoky pits. A remarkable record that still sounds best played loud as fuck, nodding along, and flying down the highway. If you can manage all those things at once, all the power to ya. If you can’t, you’ll always have Blues for the Red Sun.

– Taylor Grimes

If we’re talking solid-color album art, there’s one band that stands above the rest, and that’s Weezer. Across fifteen studio albums, more than a third of their discography is made up of self-titled albums that fans simply refer to by their color. Each features the band members lined up staring down the barrel of the camera against a solid-colored background. In this recurring section, we’ll address the elephant in the room that is Weezer’s discography.

Cue the guy standing up in the courtroom meme: Side A of Red Album is the second-best Weezer material. Everyone knows the singles “Troublemaker” and “Pork And Beans,” which are very Weezery songs that fit perfectly in their rotation of hits. But “Heart Songs” has always been a crown jewel of the Rivers Cuomotolog (Rivers Cuomotic Universe?), a perfect song for music nerds like me, riddled with references to everyone from Judas Priest to Rick Astley. I’m pretty sure Red Album was the last CD I ever listened to on a Walkman, and boy, did I use the track repeat function a lot for that one.

Admittedly, I do think the album falls apart in the second half, save for the finale “The Angel & The One,” but then the deluxe version is full of incredible bonus tracks. If they had swapped in those songs, this would probably be a perfect 10 record for me. I think “King” has to be an all-timer non-album track for any band. And “Miss Sweeney” was on rotation for me years before a certain Sydney was making accidentally racist jeans commercials.

– Logan Archer Mounts

Drug Church – Cheer

I love heavy music. I especially love heavy music that channels pure, raging emotional catharsis. Drug Church, to me, is the ultimate raging-emotional-catharsis band, and Cheer is my favorite album of theirs. Every bitter lyric, sardonic riff, and sneering song title hits exactly how it should: a brutal uppercut to the slack, flaccid jaw of an apathetic and self-righteous society. Tracks like “Unlicensed Hall Monitor” unapologetically critique those who ignore the beam in their own eye so they can point out the dust in others’: “There’s a guy in a group chat with Klansmen telling you how to live / Just a matter of time before he’s the one twisting in the wind / A grown man who can’t handle his shit.” The preceding song, “Weed Pin,” is a scathing condemnation of career culture and the endless cycle of mediocrity it creates. “Pay shit rates, get shit labor / I should have started a chemical fire… / I should have burned this place to the ground.” Losers beget losers beget losers. History repeats itself, and a chemical fire burns Rome to ashes.

The deep red cover of the album features a trio that are jarringly posed: they appear undead, naked save for grotesque body paint and an unsettling collection of harnesses and wire. If you dare to look closer, you’ll realize that they’re all the same man, triplicated in different positions. The crimson paint (blood?) splattered across the mask, obscuring each face, only adds to the general unease of the skillfully executed artwork. Even with their visages obscured, the figures seem to be leering at us, taut with rage. Because Cheer blatantly critiques society and condemns both the worst and the self-proclaimed “best” of us, it’s not difficult to imagine that the zombie-like figure adorning the cover is meant to be an Everyman. Painted, holstered, harnessed, and violent, we all know him: maybe we are him.

– Britta Joseph

Mowmow Lulu Gyaban — 野口、久津川で爆死 [Noguchi, kutsukawa de bakushi]

I say this with the highest regard; I have no idea what’s going on in this album. Not just because it’s in a language I don’t speak, but because its alt-noise-funk sound is completely unique. The combination of manic lyricism, ripping basslines, and frenetic drumming results in a record that escapes easy description or conventional genre labels. Released in 2009, 野口、久津川で爆死 was Mowmow Lulu Gyaban’s first album on a label, followed by touring, several more albums, and well-deserved notoriety within their underground niche. Trying to figure out what makes this band work without knowing Japanese has been tough, but from live videos, I learned the drummer is also the main vocalist, explaining much of the energy charged in this 44-minute package. For me, the last track ties the whole album together and is a key reason I’ve kept it in rotation. It starts as a more subdued song, maybe hinting at a contemplative closing, but it slowly devolves into loosely constrained chaos, with two singers narrating the same lyrics of (if Google Translate can be trusted) a mostly mutual breakup. The track closes on speaker feedback and a call-and-response shout along from the audience, the perfect endcap to the entire experience.

– Braden Allmond

Kanye West – My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

Fuck Kanye West.

This is not a plea to “separate the art from the artist.” This is not an attempt to identify a threshold in the Kanye West timeline where he “went too far,” thus exonerating anything before that statement or behavior. Both of these efforts are futile.

I haven’t listened to Kanye West’s music in years. I never wanted it to show up on any Year In Review report. I didn’t want my neighbors or people on the street to hear me listening to it. Mostly, I didn’t even want the $0.0000000034 per stream to go to him. And it’s a real shame, because from 2004 to 2011 Kanye West had an absolutely immaculate 6-album run. GOOD Music and Yeezus and even The Life Of Pablo were great too, but by that time Kanye’s behavior had blown well past “provocateur” into “complete asshole.” What began as mostly just asinine complaints about being under-recognized at award shows (culminating in the now-infamous “Taylor Swift imma let you finish” moment) got more and more outrageous and indefensible. At one time, Kanye’s biggest beef was with Bill Hader (Hader, both an SNL cast member and a South Park writer, drew Kanye’s ire in MBDTF). Most recently, Kanye took out a full-page ad in The Wall Street Journal where he went long on his 2002 car accident, the damage it did to his frontal lobe, and his struggles with bipolar disorder. It’s a surprisingly lucid statement from Kanye that ends with a number of apologies and a plea for patience. Coming from a man who claimed “slavery was a choice,” expressed his “love for” Adolf Hitler, claimed to have “dominion” over his wife Bianca Censori, and put a swastika on the cover of his latest album, it feels like too little too late. It’s not only too late, it feels disingenuous and insincere, and to the skeptics is a pretty poor attempt at image rehab in the lead-up to what will likely be a new album.

I’m sympathetic to mental health issues! I’m sensitive to personality disorders! If Kanye West has issues severe enough to make him say even 20% of what he’s said in the last 10 years, his gobs of money should be able to get him the help he needs. And I hope he does!

Until then, it’s a damn shame Kanye’s aggressive attempts to make himself the main character of history have completely ruined an incomparable body of work–including his magnum opus, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

I’m sorry this piece wasn’t really about the album at all, but I wanted to say it’s really annoying that I can’t even listen to some of my favorite albums anymore because the guy who made them is a megalomaniacal asshole.

– Caleb Doyle

Against Me! – The Disco Before the Breakdown

Bodies spilling over each other in a grainy photo, washed in red. Mouths shouting. Fingers pointing. People are reaching to lift up a fallen bass player. The cover of The Disco Before the Breakdown captures what listening to early Against Me! feels like: like you could fall apart at the end of this chorus, but you know everyone singing along will be there to pick you up. The music is this scrappy, ferocious beast that surges forward with abandon while Laura Jane Grace screams her confessions. Grace has never sounded more desperate for absolution than she does on “Tonight We’re Gonna Give It 35%” when she sings “it’s got me on my knees in a bathroom / praying to a god I don’t even believe in / ‘well, dear Jesus, are you listening?’” When I’ve been that desperate, The Disco Before the Breakdown has filled me with a sense of triumph in the sorrow.

– Lillian Weber

Best Witches – Jail

Jail by Best Witches has probably the single strongest opening minute of any emo revival act I can think of. Leading off with the drumset, after two seconds of guitar whine, there’s immediately a wayward, forlorn, and simple lead melody. After a tight 40 seconds, this promising setup is abandoned and replaced by two bars of strumming that sound like the stretch before a wind sprint. By the 60-second mark, we’ve gotten some very righteous arpeggios and our first lyrics “I would go out tonight, but we’re stuck playing at the house. Shit, there’s a glow stick, let’s check this thing out.” After a small regathering, we’re rolling again, and at the 1:20 mark, we get the terrible realization that this song is a eulogy for a lost pet: “Raleigh’s foaming at the mouth.” By the end of the second minute, everything but guitar has pulled away, meandering through the opening lick. Slowly, the momentum is built back, and by 2:45 we’re close to full speed again, though this time with more restraint, and the lyrics “No more running around, no more barking about all our favorite toys we can’t live without.” The final 90 seconds are spent repeating the line, winding down the drums, and taking their feet off the gas, gently giving way to full atmosphere, and the start of the next song. This whole EP is great, but “Margot’s Song” is awesome.

The energy this group brings to their art is infectious, and reminds of Olde Pine and Dikembe (still active!), two bands from around the same time. In classic emo band fashion, these guys made incredible music together for about a year, then called it quits for good. Shouts out to Trevor from Hays for showing me this EP like 7 years ago!

– Braden Allmond

Turnover – Peripheral Vision

Turnover’s Peripheral Vision was a point of contention for longtime Turnover Heads such as myself. Today’s emo kids might find it hard to believe that the Virginia Beach unit was largely a pop-punk group before their hard pivot to dreamy indie soundscapes. These same kids are the ones confused as hell at the Turnover gig when thirty-somethings are screaming “play Sasha!” just to piss off Austin Getz.

Peripheral Vision indeed altered the band's trajectory in ways unimaginable for a pop-punk/emo band at that time. The release sparked curiosity for newcomers and confusion from longtime fans. While I love PV and its hazy attitude, at the time I was more enamored by the band's first full-length, Magnolia, and felt a bit slighted that Turnover chose to ignore all their music before PV.

It was a hot-as-heck spring day in El Paso when Turnover trekked in alongside acts like Citizen and Sorority Noise. I was ecstatic to finally catch a glimpse of my favorite band, and in my often-overlooked hometown no less. The show essentially ended up being a full playthrough of PV from start to finish, with little acknowledgement of any other music in their discography. I was bummed to say the least. Ten years later, the album has reached near-legendary status amongst many audiophiles. Fast forward a decade to a rainy spring day in Albuquerque, when my fiancée and I attended the tenth anniversary gig for PV, where the front-to-back playthrough of the album was entirely expected. Lots of things have changed in the ten years between those gigs, but what hasn’t changed are two things: PV remains an absolute banger in ways unfathomable, and I still love Magnolia more.

The gig was euphoric, and ended with a few offshoots from random albums and EPs; however, the last song performed was arguably my favorite off Magnolia, “Most of the Time.” My high school self felt vindicated– in the sense that I was able to experience a pre-PV song live, and that the band chose to acknowledge who they used to be when I fell in love with them.

– Brandon Cortez

my better half – mybetterhalf.

This self-titled EP from Seattle emo band my better half is short and not-so-sweet. Instead, you can expect each of the five tracks to reach inside of you, rip open something unresolved, and then grant catharsis through raw vocals and distortion. Despite being a relatively recent addition to the scene, my better half has effortlessly garnered a following and embarked on a West Coast tour.

On mybetterhalf., vigorous drumming and heavy guitars take turns with somber, melodic moments of reflection. The vocals convey a desperation that’s timeless to the genre, with lyrics that could have been scribbled at any point in the past 30 years. In beloved emo fashion, my better half frequently layers spoken word and dialogue over melancholic instrumentals–opening the EP with an ominous twist on one of Agent Cooper’s notorious voice notes from the cult-classic TV show Twin Peaks.

My better half is young, and their songs will take you back to the same point in your own life. Their most popular track, “Work and Progress,” begins once again with spoken word: “Yesterday I graduated / today, I’m alone.” This leads into a bittersweet commentary on the familiar experience of coping with, or rather, resisting change. Closing out the EP, “A Shipwreck I’ve Seen” hints at the ending of something more brutal than graduation and the crushing weight of uncertainty that comes with it. It’s a gritty, intense track with traces of both metal and hardcore, leaving room to breathe only during the brief, contemplative mid-section.

mybetterhalf. is the band’s only released work so far. In just five tracks, my better half has curated a heart-wrenching collection of life’s most difficult emotions and channeled them into an honest, authentic gem amongst the scene.

– Annie Watson

The Chemical Brothers – Come With Us

I was an AV club kid in high school, a pursuit driven 50% by my interest in audio equipment and 50% by my desire to skip out on class. On the day of events like the school talent show or battle of the bands, my friends and I would be given all-day hall passes to set things up in the auditorium; this all-day work window was something I insisted on, but I can admit now that it was, in most cases, not necessary. Sometimes the setup took less than an hour. This left us with a lot of time to screw around, and much of that screwing around involved playing Come With Us really, really loud over the PA system. In my head, I can still clearly hear the opening of “It Began In Afrika” bouncing off the walls of the empty auditorium as we sat in the light booth haphazardly messing with fresnels and avoiding chemistry class. “Star Guitar” is definitely a song best enjoyed at a late-night rave, but I’d argue that listening to it in the middle of the day when you’re supposed to be in AP English ranks a close second. Nostalgia aside, I still think Come With Us is a super enjoyable album, definitely the release from this era of electronic music that I return to the most. Great guest vocals from Beth Orton on “The State We’re In” and Richard Ashcroft on “The Test,” lots to sink your teeth into in general. Don’t think that I’ll ever get tired of it.

– Josh Ejnes

Fall Out Boy – Folie à Deux

My love for the band Fall Out Boy is deep and well-documented, beginning at an early age through rhythm games, as is often the case for me – whether it was “Dance, Dance” on Dance Dance Revolution or “The Take Over, The Breaks Over” on Guitar Hero: On Tour. Despite regularly watching the music videos for “I Don’t Care” and “America’s Suitehearts” on Xfinity On Demand in junior high, I did not become a vehement lover and defender of their fourth record, Folie à Deux, until a handful of years ago.

Fall Out Boy's final record before their five-year-long hiatus in 2009, Folie was a notable departure from many elements that fans came to expect from the band: a more collaborative writing approach, more worldly lyricisms, less emo songwriting and more focus on various genre influences, as well as lead singer Patrick Stump desire to move away as the focal point of their songs. It’s no wonder that Folie was received less positively than its monumental predecessor, Infinity On High. To this day, Folie remains the underdog of their catalog, even among the band members themselves, but I love an underdog.

Folie à Deux excels in every aspect of Fall Out Boy that I adore, and its multitude of features and collaborators only expand on that. Stump is firing on all cylinders vocally and delivering a performance of a lifetime on this album, a preview of the comparable vocal performance on his 2011 solo record, Soul Punk. Pete Wentz’s lyricisms are, to my estimation, the best of his career, focusing on American psychosis and commentaries rather than emo love songs. Joe Trohman, despite his struggles with drug abuse during the recording, complements the melodies and instrumentation with his virtuosic guitar playing. At the same time, Andy Hurley’s drum parts stand as the most iconic in the band’s history.

Despite enjoying the albums that preceded it, I genuinely see Folie as Fall Out Boy’s magnum opus that they could have hung their collective hats on forever. Especially with “What A Catch, Donnie” acting as an emotive love note to the band’s most notable triumphs thus far. Folie à Deux is proof that it pays, at least artistically, to destroy your creative mold and see what masterpieces can be crafted from its pieces.

– Ciara Rhiannon

My Sister’s Fugazi Shirt – Man Fears the Darkness, and So He Scrapes Away at the Edges of It With Fire

Although I have long since fallen out of the anime world, Neon Genesis Evangelion remains one of my favorite works of all time (so much so that I dragged my girlfriend, who has never even heard of the show, to watch the agonizing End of Evangelion at a theatre). In Man Fears the Darkness, and So He Scrapes Away at the Edges of It With Fire, My Sister’s Fugazi Shirt uses lo-fi hip hop, a genre often reduced to inoffensive background vibes, as a mirror to reflect the true essence of Neon Genesis, the characters, and their struggles in making sense of a broken world.

Virtually all of the samples on the album are lifted straight from the anime’s dialogue, with whole songs being dedicated to a specific character or scene from the show. Even though the instrumentals themselves are gentle enough, the sampling evokes some of the more emotional moments of the series, making it hard for the album to be thrown on as a ‘chill radio to relax and study to.’ Instead, the catharsis of the show bleeds into the album; Shinji literally endures the end of the world and finds a way to continue living. In that sense, Man Fears the Darkness is a strangely comforting album, despite the bleakness that blankets Neon Genesis Evangelion. It’s no surprise that people are so passionate about the show; these characters are reflections of us and the strength that each of us is capable of. Let this unsuspecting collection of songs remind you of that strength.

– Nickolas Sackett

Honorable Mentions

Hey, we can’t write about every album with this color, so here’s a list of some more that we feel like we should mention.

Queens of the Stone Age - Songs for the Deaf
Pool Kids – Pool Kids // POOL
Andrew Bird - The Mysterious Production of Eggs
Antioch Arrow - In Love With Jetts
The Fall of Troy - Doppleganger
Coheed and Cambria - The Father of Make Believe
Flycatcher - Wrench
Snail Mail - Habit
Cory Hanson - I Love People
World’s Worst - American Muscle
Young Thug - Barter 6
Man Overboard - The Human Highlight Reel
Interpol - Turn on the Bright Lights
Migos - Culture II
The White Stripes - Elephant
Beach House - Depression Cherry
St. Vincent - MASSEDUCTION
The White Stripes - White Blood Cells
ScHoolboy Q - Blank Face LP
Snail Mail - Lush
Heart Attack Man - Fake Blood
Wilco - Cruel Country
Lil' Wayne - Sorry 4 The Wait 2
Russian Circles - Empros
Queens of the Stone Age - ...Like Clockwork
The White Stripes - The White Stripes

February 14, 2026

Heart Sweats II: Another Swim Into The Sound Valentine’s Day Mixtape

February 14, 2026/ The Swim Team

Rip open that box of chocolates, pour out some red wine, and grab a handful of chalky heart-shaped candies, ‘cause we’ve got a lovey-dovey Valentine’s Day roundup for all you hopeless romantics out there. In celebration of the world’s most amorous holiday, we asked the Swim Team what love songs are hitting them particularly hard right now. Much like last year’s edition, the result is a beautiful and wide-ranging mixtape from the Swim Team directly to you.

Alien Boy – “Seventeen”

Falling in love is stupid. It’s one of the most senseless things you can throw yourself into, but that’s how it has to be. Love is going to embarrass you, humble you, and terrify you; it's going to make you act crazy and hurt in ways you never thought possible… It’s also the best thing in the world. Before there can be love, there must be that weird liminal period where you’re not sure what’s going on within yourself or with this person. You’re not sure if this feeling is one-sided or just something you’re thinking too much about and building up in your head. Most people call this the “crush” stage, and it can be just as exhilarating as it is disastrous.

That feeling of a new relationship, of fresh, dumb, pure emotional adoration is captured perfectly in “Seventeen” by Alien Boy. It’s a song embodying the feeling of adolescent love, the type of love that takes over your body and abducts your mind. The bouncy guitar jangle acts as the heartbeat while the bass and drums add a propulsive, restless energy like a leg you can’t stop bouncing. Every waking moment, you’re consumed with this sense of possibility; all the imagined realities and possible futures. You need reckless abandon. You need to let it out, or you’re gonna implode. You’ve gotta love like you’ve never loved someone before. It’s all or nothing.

– Taylor Grimes

Brahm – “I will find you”

Screamo is not typically the place you look to for romantic love songs. Despondent longing, sure, plenty of examples there, but espousals of deep care and adulation not rooted in agony can be a bit hard to come by. Which is really a shame. A genre as complex and passionate as this owes itself to have at least a few tracks that explore love in its connective tenderness. This is why when Brahm released “I will find you,” I was very quickly moved to tears. Here, so much of what makes this music powerful was being channeled into a grand exultation of the relationship between the singer and his now-fiancée, concentrated into an incantational promise: “I will find you / In every lifetime / Just like we / Were always meant to.” Screamed, repeated, driven up into a crescendo: “I will find you” is one of the few screamo songs that feels truly pure in its love while claiming and owning all the sonic intensity one can expect from a legendary band like Brahm. Tender, subtle, gentle, then explosive. Though few in number, screamo love songs are immense and absolutely worth weeping over on our most saccharine of holidays.

– Elias Amini

The Meters – “Mardi Gras Mambo”

Every few years, like this year, Valentine’s Day coincides with the final round of Mardi Gras festivities. It always kind of irritated me when that happened. Mardi Gras is such an insular holiday with days upon days of nonstop partying and local antics, while Valentine’s Day’s appearance always felt like it was abruptly intruding—a pink and red reality check while I’m dealing with purple, green, and gold. I have softened on this position over time and have personally compromised by including Mardi Gras songs amongst my pantheon of the greatest love songs. When measuring how much love I feel towards my favorite Mardi Gras songs, I think I love The Meters’ cover of “Mardi Gras Mambo” the most. Quite frankly, the little funky keys part at the beginning is one of the most beautiful things put to wax and best enjoyed with a daiquiri in hand. It's an old song, somewhere around 70 years old, meaning that it’s been played for generations of New Orleanians like me. This means that everyone knows it, everyone sings it, and everyone does the same little dance to it while standing on the streets. Love is in everything, and love is everywhere, but love is especially in the Mardi Gras mambooooo down in New Orleans.

– Caro Alt

ManDancing – “I Really Like You (Carly Rae Jepsen cover)”

Sometimes people joke about Carly Rae Jepsen being the queen of emo, except I’m not joking. In 2015, she blessed the world with an instant-classic pop album, Emotion, absolutely overflowing with timeless desire, courageous sincerity, and selfless love. Three short years later, Something Merry and 15 talented artists orchestrated a cover album, with all proceeds donated to Immigration Equality. EMO-TION redirects the original album’s skyscraper-high pop sensibilities into intimate articulations for any occasion. In their cover of “I Really Like You,” ManDancing takes the already perfectly unsure, desperate, brave lyrics and fills them with bated breath, yearning, and a passion literally begging to be met. The guest vocals from Em Noll in the chorus mirror lead singer Steve Kelly’s feelings, not knowing if falling so fast is a good idea, and not really caring.

I met my partner at a rock concert, and after our second date, 72 hours later, I said to her, “I think we’re in trouble.” What began as innocently getting to know each other quickly spiraled into a long-distance relationship spanning the Atlantic Ocean. These days, our distance only spans Iowa, and even then, we’re lucky enough to see each other almost every month. This song reminds me of when we met, let go of everything, and fell for each other.

ManDancing, king of this single; Carly Rae Jepsen, queen of emo music; Annie Watson, queen of my heart.

– Braden Allmond

Oso Oso – “skippy”

This just in: love is just liking everything about a person?

I like how you’re a little messy when you’re in your comfortable spaces–like how you leave your socks by my bed, yet you’re so put-together everywhere else. I like how you know that I can be a bit of a fuck-up sometimes, but you see who I am on the inside and, even more so, who I’m trying to be on the outside. I like the songs you show me, even when I don’t like the genre. But I like them because you showed them to me. I like how every melody of every song I hear is a sunny-bright hook, like literally every line of music and lyrics in “skippy” by Oso Oso. With you in the world, every song is catchier, every bite tastes better.

Most of all, I like the way that it could only be you and that you knew it before I did. I might be late to our party, but I’m grateful and lucky to go with you on my arm.

– Joe Wasserman

Touché Amoré – “Come Heroine”

I’ve never been one for love songs. I often find them saccharine, bogged down by cliche emotion and sticky with reductive lyrics that I’m sure I’ve heard elsewhere. I’ve been in love with my husband for nearly a decade, and it’s nearly impossible to find a song that accurately captures the enduring and torrential force of that kind of love, yet Touché Amoré manages to do just that in “Come Heroine.” The song crashes forward like an avalanche, rushing headlong into a crashing ocean of honest declaration: “You brought me in / You took to me / And reversed the atrophy / Did so unknowingly / Now I’m undone.” I’ve repeated this raw confession countless times, the rhythm of my heart counting the syllables. Love has disarmed me, shown me my weaknesses, and simultaneously strengthened me. “When I swore I’d seen everything / I saw you.” And even after a decade, seeing my husband every morning feels like the first time I realized I was in love with him. Even when the day comes that I finally have seen everything, I know it will still pale in comparison to him. Maybe I am one for love songs after all.

– Britta Joseph

The Smashing Pumpkins – “Stand Inside Your Love”

What does it actually mean to actually stand inside someone’s love? The hell if I know, but what I do know is that in the Y2K era Billy Corgan still had his fastball when it came to writing pop songs. “Stand Inside Your Love” is a shining example of this. It’s catchy as all get out, the lyrics are simple and easy to remember, I mean, I don’t know what else to tell you, it’s just a groovy listening experience. Those classic Pumpkins' new wave guitar textures still hit like an anvil to the heart to this day. It’s one of those love songs that still has some oomph when listening. Do yourself a favor and play this for your partner for Valentine’s or cruising around town on date night. You can thank me later. If they love the song, tell them that David sent you. If not, lose my number.

For extra credit, if you’re into the vaudeville subgenre, this song’s music video will scratch every itch you could ever imagine.

– David Williams

Kings of Leon – “Find Me”

My partner and I have been together for almost a decade, which means there are a lot of songs to choose from that have been cornerstones to our relationship. I’d been finding it difficult to choose the best one to write about this year, and I suppose it took the pressing deadline of this article’s publish date to bless me with the source. Kings of Leon have unabashedly been one of my favorite bands since I was in grade school, despite their more recent material falling a bit flat for me. But it’s actually a song from their 2016 album WALLS that comes up quite a lot in our musical lexicon with one another, a song that finds the Followill family doing their best Interpol impression, of all bands. “Find Me” is without a doubt the best piece of music the band has released in the last ten years, an upbeat rocker that doesn’t mute Caleb’s signature voice like their other latest singles do. The chorus, which is largely anchored by the question “How did you find me?”, is an effervescent feeling we share and echoes the gratitude we carry that we found each other at all. In the second verse, Caleb pleads, “Take me away, follow me into the wild with a twisted smile, I can’t escape. And now I got you by my side, all my life, day after day.”

The WALLS Tour was one of the first concerts we ever went to together, and the jolt we got when they played “Find Me” kept us going throughout the rest of the 2+ hour set. I am gushingly lucky to have found my one, even if the “how” of it all doesn’t have a definitive answer. Although, it may be hard sometimes to find each other at Costco.

– Logan Archer Mounts

Angel Olsen – “Spring”

“Don’t take it for granted, love when you have it,” is a line that has felt like a mantra ever since my first listen to this track on Angel Olsen’s 2019 album, All Mirrors. Sometimes the songs most indicative of love are the ones that describe the spaces in between it, the moments longing for it, and the times when it’s found, even if its presence only exists in a brief moment. “Spring” is downtempo enough to soundtrack a slow dance, but as the keys and orchestral production swell, it’s easy to get lost inside of due to its musical syntax and structure. It’s the auditory equivalent to the head rush of a kiss; it overtakes you but brings you back down from it gently. Even as Olsen reflects on others who may have found “it,” her optimism reaches the song’s ultimate peak of vulnerability as she plainly asks for it: “So give me some heaven just for a while, make me eternal here in your smile.”

– Helen Howard

MUNA – “Kind Of Girl”

Valentine’s Day can be hard when you’re single. I spent most of my twenties in a committed relationship, and now I can’t remember the last Valentine’s Day I celebrated that lined up with me being in a romantic relationship. However, even if you’re not romantically entangled on February 14th this year or any year, what’s most important is your perspective. I’ve been in and out of relationships quite a bit since my last major relationship broke off, and when any of those relationships have fizzled out, I found myself clinging to negative self-talk as I often do. “Kind Of Girl,” off of MUNA’s self-titled record, is a song I cling to when I need a reminder that it’s more important than anything to treat myself with grace and accept my flaws as human. Despite their catalog being full of sad queer girl music, this track takes a softer approach to sitting with your emotions. I’m the kind of girl who feels her emotions so intensely, both when falling in and out of love, or even in the presence of the slightest crush. A connection can simply run its course, yet I have to tell myself all the ways I should’ve done things differently and that I’m better off avoiding further entanglements. I’m glad I have MUNA to remind me in those moments that I need to love myself harder. I need to be gentle with the kind of girl I am, maybe lean into one of my many hobbies, and keep my heart open to the next person who wants to connect with me – and this time, let them.

– Ciara Rhiannon

January 28, 2026

Cover Collector – January Blues

January 28, 2026/ The Swim Team

At some point near the tail end of 2025, I conceived of a more communal way to bring this love of album collage to life. Because, sure, getting a live readout of your listening history is cool, but this is also about album art, an essential part of the experience and something us nerds can fixate on just as much as the songs that sit beneath the cover. As such, I’m excited to introduce Cover Collector: a monthly installation where the Swim Team will discuss some of our favorite albums based on album color. For January, we’re leaning into wintery blues.

Drive By Truckers – The Dirty South

I think about the lanky blue demon on the cover of this album all the time. I wonder how he got in the middle of those Alabama pines, if he’s drinking bootlegged rye or bourbon out of that bottle, and what he’s thinking about alone in those woods. I wonder if he likes being mean, if he listens to The Band, and if he’s scared of his daddy. How long has he been sitting on that stump?

The Dirty South is Drive By Truckers’ fifth album (I am forgoing the hyphen in the spelling of their band name here because former member Jason Isbell swears it wasn’t there when he was playing in it, and he is all over this album) and the conceptual sequel to Decoration Day. Like Decoration Day and most of their discography, the band uses the album to dissect the wrongness of the people in the South. However, what makes me like The Dirty South the most out of their Southern investigations is the consideration of familial myth and unstoppable tragedy as something crucial to understanding the region. It makes for a layered and haunting work. In an old website post, Patterson Hood said that “Tornadoes, Danko / Manuel and Carl Perkins' Cadillac all sound especially fine.” Unfortunately, he is wrong. Those songs do all sound fine, but what sounds best are “Where the Devil Don't Stay,” “The Day John Henry Died,” and “Puttin' People on the Moon.”

– Caro Alt

Grateful Dead – Dick’s Picks 15: Raceway Park, Englishtown NJ, 9/3/77

A band like the Grateful Dead has such a seemingly high barrier to entry. For the uninitiated, you’ve seen the iconography your whole life—the dancing bears (they’re actually “marching” bears), the skull with the lightning bolt in it, the skull with the rose crown. You’ve seen the images of hippies twirling. Maybe the most you know of them is your high school friend’s older brother who reeked of patchouli. Of course, all these things are reductive. But it’s what sticks.

To actually get into the music of the Grateful Dead, where would one even start? Over a 30-year career, they played over 2,400 live shows, almost all of which were recorded and exist online in some way. 13 studio albums, multiple off-shoot bands and side projects. It’s like eating an elephant, and the method for tackling both is the same: one bite at a time.

Deadheads have argued for decades—and we like to argue about everything—which is the best show to give someone to introduce them to the Grateful Dead? Cornell ’77? Kind of a perfect one. Veneta ’72? Really great, but long and spacey. Buffalo ’89? A classic, but misses some of the “lore” of the 60’s and 70’s. In my time, I’ve put multiple people “on the bus,” as they say. While it’s maybe not the absolute best, and it doesn’t cover all necessary ground, I keep coming back to Englishtown ’77.

1977 was a banner year for the Grateful Dead. Maybe THE banner year. If you ask 100 Deadheads their favorite year, I would wager over half would say ’77. Everything was just kind of connecting for them. They had fully gotten back up to speed after their hiatus year in 1975, and Jerry Garcia was at one of his many peaks. Mickey Hart, the band’s second percussionist, had returned after resigning in disgrace when his father stole a bunch of money from the group. Mickey, with other drummer Bill Kreutzmann, had locked into a sort of dancey disco vibe, apropos of the late-70s. The crown jewel of 1977 is the month of May, boasting a dozen or so all-time great shows. But this one took place in September.

Raceway Park was a massive space, and this concert would become one of the largest crowds the Dead ever played to. Estimates range from 125k to 175k people, with the most conservative figures still over 100k. Two people died, and two babies were born. There are a hundred great stories about this show (like it had been over two years since they played “Truckin’,” so apparently they had to go backstage and relearn it together in the middle of the show?), but I don’t want to hog this piece. Suffice it to say, 09/03/1977 contains multiple all-time performances of some of the Dead’s most classic songs: Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodleoo, Looks Like Rain, Peggy-O, The Music Never Stopped, Eyes of the World.

Everybody take a step back!

– Caleb Doyle

Jay-Z – The Blueprint

The Blueprint is Jay-Z at his rap beef apex; he’s sitting on a throne of dominance in New York. The rollout for Jay’s sixth studio album contained some of the most memorable moments in the Y2K era for hip-hop. There was the infamous 2001 Summer Jam concert, where Jay-Z displayed a photo of Mobb Deep’s Prodigy wearing a ballet outfit, a moment that still lives in infamy to this day in rap beef history. The dichotomy of embarrassing an opponent dressed like Michael Jackson, then bringing out the real Michael Jackson at the same concert, needs to be studied by our top historians. It’s a stroke of hater genius by Jay-Z. “Takeover” was the equivalent of a figure-four leglock aimed at not only Mobb Deep but also another rap icon, Nas, which resulted in my favorite hip-hop tussle of all time.

Besides the juicy rivalry bits, on The Blueprint, Jay-Z curated a specific soulful vibe with innovative production from a young and hungry Kanye West, who mixed in his classic soul chops, resulting in hits like “Izzo (H.O.V.A.), “Heart of the City (Ain’t No Love),” and “Never Change.” Eminem is featured on “Renegade,” a feature that I still think back to almost twenty-five years later. Something about two hip-hop heavyweights trying to out-bar each other gets me going. This song is like a Tyson-Holyfield spectacle. The Blueprint is an all-time classic that solidified Jay-Z's place in another stratosphere of superstardom.

– David Williams

Superheaven – Jar

Two years ago, my girlfriend gifted me a tape player and Jar on cassette for our first Christmas together. For me, the title of this album might as well be “Now That’s What I Call Post-Post-Post-Hardcore!” With every listen, I feel like I hear a new influence or notice a new similarity to another song. Some albums break the mold, but this one was cast so perfectly in its own that it makes the entire genre shine brighter. So, it’s not surprising that when Jar was released in April of 2013, it actually charted. On the radio. In the context of other notable releases, Title Fight’s Floral Green came out just six months prior (in a city just 10 minutes away from Superheaven’s hometown of Wilkes-Barre, PA), Citizen’s Youth released two months later, and The Hotelier’s Home, Like Noplace is There followed in late 2014. My favorite track is “Hole In the Ground,” which somehow simultaneously reminds me of Mineral and makes me appreciate Daughtry just a bit more. Final fun fact: the album cover was originally red! It changed when the group changed their name from “Daylight” to “Superheaven.”

– Braden Allmond

Motion City Soundtrack – Even If It Kills Me

The first four Motion City Soundtrack albums are sacred artifacts – well, to me at least. MCS has always been a band that felt like my own; a rejection of my sheltered upbringing that existed outside the influence of friends and family. I discovered various early hits of theirs in high school, mainly through my Say Anything Pandora station, and there has always been this secret sauce drawing me back to those early days of their career, from I Am the Movie to My Dinosaur Life. As they all feel like children to me, it’s impossible to pick a favorite, but if I had to pick the black sheep of the family, it’s their third creation, Even If It Kills Me.

It lacks the notable singles like “Everything Is Alright” and “My Favorite Accident,” you probably won’t find it collecting great accolades among top albums of all time, and it might not be considered a “no-skip” album (a term I have my own qualms with, but can’t fit into 300 words). No, Even If It Kills Me isn’t flashy and, as a whole, it’s actually a downright bummer of an album both in lyrical and musical content, but there’s a tender and often lighthearted sincerity to this particular entry in the band’s catalog that holds a special place in my heart. Songs like “Fell In Love Without You” and “Calling All Cops” offer more than enough fun and familiarity, while others, namely “Point of Extinction” and bonus track “The Worst Part…” exist purely as a reliable gut punch when I’m feeling the need for one.

Blue? Oh yes, Even If It Kills Me fits the descriptor in more ways than just its painfully 2000s album cover.

– Ciara Rhiannon

Knocked Loose – A Different Shade Of Blue

It’s been fascinating to watch A Different Shade Of Blue age since its release in 2019. In the scope of Knocked Loose’s songwriting structure, this is when the Oldham County group elevated their meat-and-potatoes approach to hardcore music and turned it into something downright scary. Every ring out and downtuned guitar passage sounds like it came straight out of hell, thanks to Isaac Hale’s obsession with creating the most unnerving guitar tones known to man and Will Putney’s complimentary production style. On the lyrical front, Bryan Garris screams of hiding someone in the walls and having a bone to pick with death, working together with video game voiceovers to further exemplify the horrifying atmosphere that Knocked Loose have wanted to build this entire time. This type of world-building would be further refined in their next record, You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To (a masterclass of 2020s heavy music associated with the color green, not blue), but A Different Shade Of Blue brought the group to the limelight for a lot of music listeners, myself included. My first proper hardcore show was their gig at Webster Hall, where I got spinkicked in the face within half an hour of getting inside. Good times.

– Samuel Leon

Ratboys – The Window

Ratboys are probably one of indie rock’s most perpetually underrated bands. Since self-releasing their self-titled EP as a duo in 2011, the band has expanded and solidified over five albums, tightening the screws each time and leaving a flawless batch of tunes in their wake. The group was sitting at the intersection of alt-country and indie rock before Pinegrove or Alex G, much less any of the bands currently chasing that sound down today. It should come as no surprise then that the Chicago band feel like such a singular and authentic voice—they’ve only ever known how to be themselves. Nowhere is that more clear than The Window, a record packed with vivacious rev-up songs, life-affirming melodies, and soul-searching epics that gradually melt into each ventricle of your heart upon repeated listen. I’d say that The Window is Ratboys’ most realized work yet, but based on the few singles released from Singin’ to an Empty Chair, it seems we might have an even better contender arriving in a matter of days. Ratboys are a rare band of consistency; a group that somehow manages to just keep getting better as they unlock new and exciting compartments of their own sound. While The Window stands as the most recent articulation of that exploration, it will be exciting to see how they continue to crank out these stirring indie rock songs with craftsman-like precision.

– Taylor Grimes

Portishead – Dummy

Nobody captured the ‘90s sense of “cool” quite like vocalist Beth Gibbons on Portishead’s Dummy. This seminal trip-hop album features her voice, breathy and sweet, over reverb-y minor chords and shifty cymbals. Like the midnight blue of the album cover, Dummy is so nighttime-coded it simply doesn’t make sense to listen to it while the sun’s out. Gibbons’ lines are flirty and at the same time deadly serious. Some speculate you shouldn’t look the blue Medusa in the eye, but I recommend turning up the bass volume.

– Katie Hayes

Weezer (1994), also known as “The Blue Album,” is simply an all-timer. Maybe I’m biased as someone who identifies with Rivers Cuomo’s nerdy tendencies and staggering unconfidence. Despite those leanings, these songs fucking rock and make for one of the best records of the 90s and alternative music as a whole. Ending the whole thing on a wandering, meditative, soul-affirming 8-minute song is just the cherry on top.

Dire Straits – Love Over Gold

Love Over Gold is one of the best records that I’ve ever found in a bargain bin. Before picking this up a month or so back, I only really knew Dire Straits through their radio hits, so I wasn’t at all prepared for Love over Gold’s 14-minute-long opener “Telegraph Road.” A heartland rock track from a British band that’s as long as a prog song, you just can’t beat it. Front to back, this record is full of great moments, especially in the latter half of the title track, where you get some very cool lead interplay between vibraphones, marimbas, and a nylon string guitar.

This has quickly become the album that I reach for when I’m not exactly sure what I want to listen to; it’s interesting without being heady, perfect for late-night listens while you stare at the ceiling. I know I’m late to the party here, but man, Mark Knopfler can really play. Beyond its own merits, I have an affinity for this record because it got me obsessed with Knopfler, which led to me watching a movie he scored called Local Hero. The movie had been on my watchlist for a while, but I’d been holding off because its premise made me fear it might be trite and predictable; the Knopfler connection was enough to push me over the edge to actually watch it. It turned out that I was totally wrong, hell of a movie. Thanks, Love over Gold.

– Josh Ejnes

Nine Inch Nails – With Teeth

Sometimes I forget that Nine Inch Nails is one of my favorite bands. The last release of theirs I was really obsessed with was 2013’s Hesitation Marks, and I’m not enough of a cinephile to follow all of Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross’s soundtrack work. Plus, the last time I saw them was admittedly a bit underwhelming, considering the first time I saw them at Lollapalooza 2013 is still, to this day, the best live performance I’ve ever witnessed. That show had arrived after eight long years of build-up, when I heard the band for the very first time. With Teeth had just come out, their first album since 1999’s The Fragile, and their finest hour in my opinion. The album was blaring from my dad’s home office when I walked in there to ask him a likely asinine question, as I often did. I heard Trent screaming “DON’T YOU FUCKING KNOW WHO YOU ARE” over this chaotic electronic music, unlike anything I’d heard before. After that, I became a pre-teen NIN devotee, studying every CD my dad had in his collection, including the remix albums like Fixed and Further Down The Spiral, and of course, With Teeth.

In some ways, I think Teeth is the perfect NIN album. It’s a career-encapsulating collection of songs that range from aggressive radio singles like “The Hand That Feeds” and “Only,” to classic goth ballads like “Every Day Is Exactly The Same” and “Right Where It Belongs,” plus fan favorite deep cuts like “Getting Smaller” and “Sunspots.” The band’s next album, 2007’s Year Zero, with more fantastic blue artwork, would inspire me to write a 14-chapter fan fiction for my fifth-grade creative writing assignment. Trent and his rotating cast of bandmates have been a longtime influence of mine, even if their records aren’t as prevalent in my rotation as they once were. With Teeth will always be a cornerstone in my musical evolution that hasn’t lost a beat in the last 20 years.

– Logan Archer Mounts

12 Rods – If We Stayed Alive

12 Rods—a Minneapolis group sometimes remembered for earning one of Pitchfork’s very first “10s,” but maybe more commonly referred to as “the greatest band that nobody remembers.” After calling it quits in 2004, 12 Rods made a surprise comeback in 2023 with seven previously unreleased tracks and just one remaining member—frontman Ryan Olcott.

Despite a 20-year gap between records, If We Stayed Alive picks up seamlessly where Olcott and the former band left off. In true 12 Rods fashion, the album blends dreamy, dizzying textures with cryptic yet personal lyricism. While heavier moments of 12 Rods’ discography made use of synthesizers and occasional distortion, If We Stayed Alive opts for electric guitar with a timeless wash of reverb. The record’s haunting opening promptly transitions into a handful of more optimistic tracks, then just as quickly pivots to a cool, understated groove. Olcott’s nuance shines even in the final 20 seconds of the record when the listener is granted the slightest hint of a harmonic and emotional resolution after floating through the sonic ether.

While the cover is a lively electric blue, If We Stayed Alive evokes the deep blue of a downtown on a foggy night. This record is ideal for the dreampop fan who yearns for the 90s, and is the perfect gateway into the bittersweet world of 12 Rods.

– Annie Watson

Oklou – choke enough

I, admittedly, don’t know much about Oklou. I know that she is from France, is a classically trained musician (a pianist and cellist), and recently became a mother during the creation of choke enough. The ripples of motherhood flow throughout the album, especially in the blurry, domestic scene displayed on the cover; a group of kids hanging out in the living room, slightly out of focus, their attention drawn to something happening just outside the window. Oklou herself poses for a selfie in the foreground of the scene, perfectly depicting the conflict that is prevalent throughout the record: what does it mean to be Oklou now in such a strange era of accelerated surveillance technology, one where she not only has a new life to care for but has instant access to the beauty and (horror) of the world in a scrollable feed?

That dichotomy is explored beautifully through a gentle record that remains alluringly at arm’s length, despite its intimacy. Much of the music here resembles the transient experience of passing by a club at night and hearing the 808s pump through the walls; you can feel the party, but you're not exactly a part of it. You need that distance sometimes, that oddly comforting sense of proximity that allows the freedom to pause and make sense of it all without getting completely wrapped up in it. Oklou gives us a misty, ephemeral work, pushing towards the emotion found in trance and club music, yet constantly pulling back before the exuberant drop. But all rivers flow back to the self. Let the blue waters flow over you. You never know what can be floating underneath.

– Nickolas Sackett

The Weepies – Hideaway

I hadn’t been driving for long. Freshly sixteen, I’d revel in my newfound mobility with jaunts just about anywhere. That particular day in 2008, I was on the move, hoping to stock my CD shelves with goods from CD Warehouse, a nook in my neighborhood’s strip center. Part of me felt shame determining a purchase based on album art, but the other part of me fell in love with the delicately drawn beluga whale on the cover of The Weepies’ Hideaway. I grabbed the plastic square and slapped it onto the counter. In the container of my car, the songs felt like lullabies, gently melancholy like the stars and the sea on the cover.

This album has never quite let me out of its orbit. The opening track, “Can’t Go Back Now,” is one of my playlist mainstays. The folky duo’s silky harmonies sail over soft, sparkling guitars and keys: “If you ever turn around, you’ll see me.” It’s an ode to a deep blue road that I still find myself driving, almost twenty years later.

– Katie Hayes

Lorde – Melodrama

I was first introduced to Lorde in 2013 when my college roommate played “Royals” for me through the tinny speaker of her iPhone 4. We would play the album on loop as the semesters flew by, cementing Lorde as one of the defining artists of my undergrad career. Fast-forward to 2017, and I’m heading into my second year of graduate school. This time, Lorde had freshly released her sophomore album, Melodrama, and my best friend and I loved to listen to “Liability” as we agonized over papers, research, and recital prep. The album artwork is one of my favorites: a moody, intimate painting of Lorde by Sam McKinniss. His treatment of light through the use of rich blue tones and contrasting coral accents is mesmerizing. The portrait is timeless, capturing both elegance and raw vulnerability through angular brushstrokes and saturated hues. I’ll always love it. Nostalgia lives on in every track, reminding me of evenings spent blasting this album with the windows down, breathing in the salted Gulf air, and screaming about the “fuckin’ melodrama” until our voices were nearly as raspy as Lorde’s.

– Britta Joseph

The Avalanches – We Will Always Love You

The Avalanches entered the cultural zeitgeist with their 2000 album, Since I Left You, and re-entered it again with their long-awaited 2016 follow-up, Wildflower. Both albums are beloved for good reason, but to me, nothing compares to the magnum opus that is We Will Always Love You. In some ways, this is a concept record, following the love story between Carl Sagan and Ann Druyan, the director of the Voyager Golden Record project, whose goal was to cement the existence of human life into the universe by placing two golden records upon the Voyager spacecrafts in 1977. Her face is on the cover, and the thesis of her project serves as a throughline of the album’s heart and soul.

There is no record that feels as all-encompassing or celebratory of the human experience and what it means to love each other. Throughout the album’s runtime, The Avalanches combine their signature plunderphonics and sample-based production with interpolations and features from musicians whose work spans countless genres and decades. From Johnny Marr and Blood Orange to Vashti Bunyan and Karen O, the album centers around the idea that everyone can come together and celebrate our shared humanity through music. The record’s hour-long runtime never feels bloated or weighted down by any of its inclusions; in fact, it’s an album that feels wrong to listen to unless it’s as a complete work. Despite the fact that each track can stand as its own composition, when listened to as a full album, every song continues to build on the last. It’s all one musical idea extrapolated on by many different voices and perspectives.

Each time I think back on the tracks I love the most, like “Interstellar Love” with Leon Bridges, “Gold Sky” with Kurt Vile, or “Running Red Lights” with Rivers Cuomo and Pink Siifu, I remember the cathartic rush and emotion I feel throughout the journey, capped off by the closing track. The final song “Weightless” contains the Arecibo Message from 1974, a Morse code which was broadcast at the speed of light into the universe to beg the question of extraterrestrial existence. Though we may not have any concrete way to know who heard the Voyager Golden Record or the Arecibo Message, we know that music connects us to each other, no matter where in the world we are.

– Helen Howard

Honorable Mentions

Hey, we can’t write about every album with this color, so here’s a list of some more that we feel like we should mention.

Joni Mitchell - Blue
Queens of the Stone Age - Rated R
The Killers - Hot Fuss
Explosions in the Sky - How Strange, Innocence
Nirvana - Nevermind
Turnstile - Never Enough
Momma - Welcome to My Blue Sky
First Day Back - Forward
Drunk Uncle - Look Up
Geese - Getting Killed
Sturgill Simpson - A Sailor’s Guide to Earth
Carpool - My Life in Subtitles
Combat - Stay Golden
Judge - Bringin’ It Down
Megadeth - Rust In Peace
Meat Loaf - Bat Out Of Hell II: Back Into Hell
Fall Out Boy - Take This To Your Grave
Oldsoul - Education on Earth
Death Cab For Cutie - Thank You For Today
Adventures - Supersonic Home
Kacey Musgraves - Golden Hour

December 22, 2025

Swim Into The Sound’s 13 Favorite Albums of 2025

December 22, 2025/ Taylor Grimes

What can I say about 2025 that hasn’t already been said across numerous publications, think pieces, and vent sessions? I guess I’ll start (selfishly) with my own experience as 2025 was a year of displacement, awkward liminal holding patterns, and stringing things together. About halfway through the year, I moved from North Carolina, leaving behind a place that felt “my speed” and was home to one of the most welcoming creative communities I’ve ever been part of. I also spent months looking for a job, facing down rejection after rejection, which is a uniquely demoralizing and confidence-destroying way to spend a year. Way I figure, all you can do in a situation like that is try to keep things light and moving forward.

The upside was that this lack of vocation meant lots of freedom and experimentation. At the beginning of the year, I instituted my own weekly column and monthly roundup just to keep myself writing regularly. I rekindled my love of photography and launched a new wing of this site dedicated to concert photos. I made a fresh batch of Swim Into The Sound merch (shirts, totes, lighters, stickers!) and tabled our first-ever event at a festival that has been nothing short of formative to my musical identity. We also made our first zine, hit 500 articles, and turned ten years old! It was a banner year in Swim Land that also happened to be our most-trafficked ever, all with fewer posts than last year, so I’ll chalk that up to quality over quantity. I couldn’t have done any of this without the beautiful Swim Team, and if you wanna know what music they liked this year (besides “Elderberry Wine”), you should click here. I hope this continues to be a place where cool people can share cool music they love.

In the end, I did find a job, and it's one that I am immensely excited to start in the new year. It’ll be a new chapter of my life and, presumably, this site as I find equilibrium in an entirely new environment. Now that I’m looking back, 2025 felt like a really weird self-contained bottle episode of sorts. Apologies in advance if things feel slow or disjointed in the new year. I think there’s still lots of “figuring stuff out” ahead of me, but at least now I feel some direction, which is a blessing after 12 months of floating around and trying my best.

Okay, but who the hell am I?

I am a dork-ass nerd who listens to way too much music. My choice for album of the year matters just as much as yours. You can read that statement as positively or negatively as you like, but I see it as freeing. We all have different answers to the AOTY question, from the lowly Taylor Swift devotee to the buzzy Bandcamp-only group that Pitchfork has exalted this year. To some end, those answers themselves are meaningless; what actually matters is why.

This year, I sat looking at some of my favorite albums of 2025 and questioned if it was all too expected. It’s not quite this, but many of these bands feel like related artists who tour together, play on each other’s songs, and could easily be played in sequence at a cafe that has let the algorithmic radio play out too long. Does it feel redundant? Am I offering enough trenchant insight to warrant this? Where do I get off?

If all the first-person language so far wasn’t a tip-off, “Swim Into The Sound’s Favorite Albums of 2025” is really just “Taylor’s Favorite Albums of 2025” dressed up to resemble the type of year-end list you’d find at a more buttoned-up publication. This is a tradition I’ve kept up for ten years, so there’s no stopping it now.

Ultimately, the goal for this type of article is to be as representative of my year as possible. Sure, it’s ranked, so I guess there’s some value judgment here, but make no mistake: this is a love fest. These are all records that I listened to endlessly and found comfort or catharsis in throughout the year. The goal is for me to look back and say ‘oh yeah, that’s what 2025 sounded like…’ I think a certain type of person might still find something new here, but at the very least, I hope you find a new way to look at an album you’ve already heard.

This year, we’re going with a baker’s dozen. Sure, it’s ranked, but the difference between, say, #8 and #9 on a list like this is about as nebulous as it gets. I can assure you I’ve got an even bigger list about a hundred albums long, and while it can feel funny to affix a number like “66” to a record, to me this is a celebration, not competition.

In so many ways, this was a terrible year of backsliding, regression, malicious intent, and horrible cruelty. I think it’s right to button things up with some positives before sending 2025 off to the annals of time—so long and good riddance. Here’s hoping we take the next step forward together, taking on whatever comes at us with renewed energy, vigor, and intent.

Look out for each other and love each other, it’s kinda all we have. In the meantime, here are 13 albums that helped keep me sane and understood in a year of free-floating dread and looming anxiety. Hallelujah, holy shit.

13 | First Day Back – Forward

For every “real emo” copypasta, there’s an equal and opposite reaction. For the ongoing Mom Jeans-ification of Midwest Emo, I like to imagine there’s a group like First Day Back upholding a more rigorous and truthful version of the genre, rooted in something more profound. Forward sounds like a forgotten classic, lost behind the shelves of a Pacific Northwest record store between Sunny Day Real Estate and Sharks Keep Moving. Throughout their debut, the Santa Cruz band tap into a second-wave style of emo that does my soul good to hear in the modern era. There’s no shortage of forlorn vocals or wandering instrumentals that offer plenty of space to contort in contemplation and writhe in regret. A true-blue emo release that should appease the oldheads and help the kids wrap their minds around a different way to approach these feelings. It’s overwrought because it has to be. After all, that’s the only way you feel anything at this age. And that is real emo.

12 | Ribbon Skirt – Bite Down

Early on in 2025, I was listening to an advance of Bite Down and was struck with the realization that it was one of my favorite records of the year thus far. In a world where the bands you know and recognize offer the false comfort of familiarity, here was a record I wandered into with zero knowledge or preconceived notions, and I found myself utterly floored by. While it’s technically the Montreal band’s debut, Ribbon Skirt was formed from the ashes of Love Language, so this new name and project feel like a fresh start that allows them to be even more intentional and fully realized. This is a band that knew what kind of music they wanted to make and achieved their vision with stunning clarity throughout these nine tracks. Bite Down is packed with dark, enchanting grooves that are even more mystifying to witness live. Lead singer Tashiina Buswa pens lyrics that can be cutting, angry, and funny all at once – a combination of emotions that feel like an appropriate way to face down the absurdity of life in the modern age. There’s betrayal, confusion, displacement, and, at the end of it all, the band summons a pit to swallow everything up and return the world we know into the gaping maw of the universe, washing it all away in the blink of an eye.

Read our full review of Bite Down here.

11 | Michael Cera Palin – We Could Be Brave

There’s a joke I like to say, and I can’t remember if I picked it up from somewhere or arrived at it organically, but it’s a bit of a sweeping statement: every band name is bad except for Mannequin Pussy. That’s true to the nth degree for Michael Cera Palin, a band whose name sounds like an emo group from a decade ago because they are. The crazy thing is, the music is so fucking good that it redeems the corny name to the point where I don’t even think about it until I’m saying it out loud.

To give a brief history of the Atlanta indie-punk group: they released two EPs at the waning crest of fourth-wave that I genuinely believe to be without flaw. Between COVID, lineup changes, and just about every obstacle you could imagine, We Could Be Brave is the group’s first official LP, and it’s everything I could have hoped for. The thing kicks off like a powderkeg with immaculate guitar tone and hard-driving bass, peaking in an ultra-compelling cry of “FUCK A LANDLORD, YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHERE I LIVE!” There’s an incredible spoken word passage, powerful singalong singles, a re-recording for the realheads, and a 12-minute closing title track to really send ya off with a kick in the pants. Throughout it all, the band is utterly restless and proficient, a perfect conduit for the transfer of energy that this type of music aims to achieve. The rare great emo album, the rare seven-year wait that was worth it, the rare god-awful band name that doesn’t give me a second of pause.

Read our full review of We Could Be Brave here.

10 | Greg Freeman – Burnover

I love the first Greg Freeman album. There was a whole summer where I kept I Looked Out on maddening repeat, wrapped up in its alien twang and distortion. It’s the exact kind of sound that’s in vogue right now, so it only makes sense that Greg Freeman is already onto the next thing. Greg’s second album, Burnover, is a dirty, dust-covered, shit kicker of an album, packed with lounge singer swagger, funny-ass phrases, and open-road braggadocio. Opening track “Point and Shoot” is something of a test to see how well the listener can handle Freeman’s off-kilter voice as he paints backdrops of blood-soaked canyons, senseless tragedy, and a wild west with the power to make you recoil. Beyond that, the horns of “Salesman” and the honky tonk piano of “Curtain” offer riches beyond this world. Mid-album cut “Gulch” revs to life with the heartland verve of a Tom Petty classic, encouraging you to hop in your car and hit 80 on the closest straightaway you can find. If the album’s charms work the way they’re intended, by the time he’s singing “Why is heartache outside, doing pushups in the street?” the question should not only make sense, but the answer should hit you like a punch in the gut.

Read our full review of Burnover here.

9 | Florry – Sounds Like…

Sometimes, one sentence is all it takes to sell you on a record. In the case of Sounds Like…, there was a standalone quote on the Bandcamp page, rendered in hot-pink type, that reads, “The Jackass theme song was actually a really big influence on the new album.” Hell yeah, brother. Between the time it took me to read that and watch the homespun handycam music video for lead single “Hey Baby,” I knew I was in for a good time. Sounds Like… is an album that sweats, shouts, yelps, and stomps its way into your heart through nothing but the glorious power of rock and roll. Opening track “First it was a movie, then it was a book” is a joyous seven-minute excursion, complete with glorious guitar harmonies and countless solos – a perfect showcase for lead singer Francie Medosch’s scratchy, charismatic voice. Throughout the rest of the album, you’ll hear sweltering harmonica, walloping wah-wah, beautiful acoustic balladry, smoky, head-bobbing riffage, and sincere love songs. Sometimes ya just gotta sit back, let the guitars rock, and enjoy watching the frontperson be a wonky type of guy you’ve never seen before. While their sound is obviously very steeped in the tradition of “classic” rock, on this album, Florry sounds like nothing but themselves.

8 | Colin Miller – Losin’

Colin Miller might be the Fifth Beatle of the “Creek Rock” scene. He’s the Nigel Godrich to Wednesday’s Radiohead; the rhythmic center keeping time in MJ Lenderman’s band; the invisible fingerprint on a whole host of this year’s best indie rock records. On his second solo album, Miller proves that he’s also a knockout musician in his own right. While I enjoyed the singles, to me, the only thing you need to understand Losin’ is to start it from the top and take in that sick-ass guitar bend on “Birdhouse.” If that hits you, then you’re in for a treat.

Essentially an album-length eulogy, Losin’ is a record about Gary King, the beloved owner of the Haw Creek property, which served as artistic home for the aforementioned Wednesday, MJ Lenderman, and many more from the now-dispersed Asheville music scene. This is an album that wrestles, fights, makes up with, and finds painful coexistence alongside loss. It’s not just the loss of a father figure and a home, but a time, place, and person that you’ll never be again. It’s about how things will always feel different, and might feel bad, but will unfold all the same. The tasty licks help things go down easier, but this is a heartrending record made for moping and wallowing in the name of moving on. After all, it’s what those lost loved ones would have wanted.

Read our full review of Losin’ here.

7 | Geese – Getting Killed

Whenever life has felt hard this year, I can’t help but feel guilty knowing that I don’t have things that bad. All things considered, my struggles feel frivolous compared to what some have to deal with on a daily basis, and that worries me for the future. Put another way, I’m getting killed by a pretty good life.

It seems impossible to write about Geese without being a little annoying, but maybe that’s just because I know a lot of music writers and have read a lot of hyperbolic Geese writing this year. They’re the band saving rock. They’re the band holding up New York as an artistic center of the universe. They’re the ones topping lists and starting trends and getting people to wash their hair differently. Ultimately, I’m just glad that kids have a proper band to look up to who will lead them to Exile and Fun House and to start their own stupid, shitty rock bands that don’t go anywhere. We need more of those.

If anything, I am a Geese skeptic. If anything, I prefer the dick-swingin' classic rock riffage that was more abundant on 3D Country. If anything, I think this band’s most interesting work is still in front of them. Even still, it’s hard to deny the beauty of a song like “Au Pays du Cocaine,” the snappy drumming of “Bow Down,” the rapturous ascension of “Taxes,” or the pure, wacked-out fun of shouting “THERE’S A BOMB IN MY CAR!” Overall, Getting Killed may take a slightly slower pace than I would have wanted, but it’s nice to have a cool, weird rock band making cool, weird rock music that people seem to be excited about.

6 | Alex G – Headlights

Headlights is an album that feels like it was meant to exist as a CD in the console of your family car. It’s a shame this wasn't released between the years of 1991 and 1998. This is an album that has grown on me immensely over time, and much of that enjoyment comes from throwing it on and letting it play from the top. Headlights has a rough, road-ready quality that puts it in the league of albums like Out of Time or Being There – records meant to be thrown on repeat endlessly and live between the seats of a beat-up Dodge or the family van. Maybe listened in five to 15-minute chunks while running errands across town, maybe on a road trip blasting through the middle of the country. In any case, the tenth album from Alex G doesn’t necessarily stun or wow on the outset; instead, its power comes from these repeated visits, slowly growing, morphing, and solidifying over time into a singular thing. Definitely a grower, not a shower, but hey, who among us? After directing scores for two of the most interesting indie films of the past decade, Alex G seems to have picked up a couple of interesting lessons about restraint and leaving some sense of mystery. Headlights is a record that rewards patience with beauty, unlocking compartments and passageways for those willing to explore. In time, I think this record will work its way up my ranking towards the upper-crust of Alex G records, but maybe I’m just unavoidably 32, and this is the type of music I’m drawn to. Time will tell.

5 | Spirit Desire – Pets

In the weeks after Pets released, I distinctly remember asking myself the question, ‘Can a four-song EP be in the top ten on my album of the year list?’ Technically, Pets is really only three songs and one 90-second instrumental interlude, but I suppose that lightweight feeling is part of the appeal; less songs means less space for error, and when four out of four songs hit, you start to think of this as a 100% hit ratio. While the first song delves into the title at hand, reckoning with dead pets over shimmering keys and a nasally Canadian-emo accent, “Shelly’s Song” offers an immediate portal that cleanses the palate for what’s next. What’s next is “IDFC,” one of my favorite songs of the year and a track that connects to me with the same lightning rod intensity of something like “Assisted Harikari,” an absolute jolt to the system and the type of song that reminds me why I like music so much in the first place. Admittedly my buoy for this entire release, “IDFC” begs you to jump into the pit and scream your heart out, while “It Is What It Is” swoops in to mop up the sweat and spilled beer. I know Pets isn’t an album, but the enjoyment I’ve gotten out of these ten minutes outweighs entire LPs, adventures, and days of my life—a perfect excursion.

4 | Algernon Cadwallader – Trying Not to Have a Thought

It sounds a little hyperbolic, but when Algernon Cadwallader released Some Kind of Cadwallader in 2008, it more or less birthed the modern emo scene. There are still bands today that cite Algernon as an inextricable influence. Sure, emo music still has deeper ties to American Football and Rites of Spring, but Algernon was the Revival. In fact, they were so good, they couldn’t even top themselves. The group released Parrot Flies in 2011, then decided to take a hiatus in 2012. A couple of years ago, they did the Anniversary Thing and toured with the original lineup, which felt so good that they signed to Saddle Creek for Trying Not to Have a Thought. Never mind the Emo Qualifier; this record is the absolute best-case scenario for a band reuniting and recording a record, up there with Slowdive and Hum.

Perhaps one of the strongest things working in its favor is that this is decidedly not the band just trying to sound as close as possible to their fan-favorite album; instead, they’re taking those techniques and approaches and updating them to where they find themselves in life now, which is to say, grappling with an entirely different set of problems. While the early music was earnest and obscure, Trying is earnest and pointed. There’s no longer time to beat around the bush because there are real stakes. This record touches on everything: death, technology, work-life balance, and the 1982 non-narrative documentary Koyaanisqatsi. When those concepts seem too big, the band zooms in on hyper-specific examples, detailing them with colorful brush strokes that are impossible to rip away from.

On one song, vocalist Peter Helmis shines a light on millions of dollars of rocks that the city of Portland, Oregon, had installed to keep homeless people from sleeping under an overpass. One song later, the band recounts Operation MOVE, in which our own government dropped two bombs on a Philly neighborhood that housed the black liberation organization MOVE, killing six adults, five children, and leaving hundreds homeless. It’s pretty stunning to hear a band age this gracefully and create a work that feels like it stands alone. The decades separating the band’s first album from their most recent show that the members are all more mature, proficient, and outspoken. In the end, the band themselves sum everything up smack dab in the middle of the record, where they sing, “You’re ready all too ready ready to accept that this is the way it’s always been and so it must not be broke.” We are radiators hissing in unison.

Read our write-up of Trying Not To Have a Thought here.

3 | Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse Band – New Threats from the Soul

Ryan Davis is a verbose motherfucker. The average track length on his project’s sophomore album is eight minutes. Recommending that to a casual music fan makes me feel like those people who talk about decades-running anime series and say things like “it really picks up like 300 episodes in,” but I swear that, in this case, patience pays off. In fact, I don’t think you even have to be that patient: go listen to the opening song, title track, and lead single “New Threats from the Soul,” and you’ll pretty immediately understand what this album is “doing,” which is to say loungy, multi-layered sonic expeditions into the heart of the increasingly fragile American psyche. There’s synth, snaps, flutes, and claps. There are shaky statements of love, glimpses into a kingdom far, far away, and an unshakable disconnect between the life expected and the one being lived. At the center of it all, we find Ryan Davis attempting to piece a life together with bubblegum and driftwood, flailing as the band flings back into the groove.

This sort of energy is scattered all across New Threats from the Soul, each song offering a vast soundscape, hundreds of words, and enough of a runway to really feel like you’re along for the ride. Each track pulls you along, adding some lightness and brevity exactly where it’s needed as you are comforted, consoled, and compelled by the pen of Mr. Davis. There are just as many ravishing turns of phrase as there are striking instrumental moments, like the country-fried breakbeat on “Monte Carlo / No Limits” or the winding outro of “Mutilation Falls.” It all adds up to an album that you’ll keep turning over, parsing different layers of a dense text and coming up with something new each time.

2 | Wednesday – Bleeds

The new album from Wednesday is perfect. It’s also expected. Expected in that those who have been following the group for years pretty much knew what to expect from the band’s tightrope walk of country, shoegaze, and cool-ass southern indie. Expected that the band has refined this formula to the point of perfection. Expected that it earned them lots of media coverage, interviews, and sold-out shows after the album before this did the same. The only reason I’d still give an edge to an album like Twin Plagues is that everything felt that much more surprising and novel when it was my first time experiencing it. Even still, it’s a delight taking in the world through the eyes of bandleader Karly Hartzman, who writes, pound-for-pound, some of the most charming, personable, and compassionate lyrics of any modern artist. Her words hone in on small details that others might pass over, wielding them into pointed one-liners, surprising pop culture references, or brand-new idioms that just make inherent sense.

Bleeds still has plenty of surprises: an Owen Ashworth-assisted romp through a double-header of Human Centipede and a jam band set, a rough-and-ready crowd-churning rager, a Pepsi punchline to wrap the whole thing up. This is the most Wednesday album to date: a sort of album-length self-actualization brought about by five of the most talented musicians our United States has to offer. Each time I venture into the record, it is utterly transportive. As “Reality TV Argument Bleeds” mounts to a piercing scream followed by a blown-out shoegaze riff, it’s impossible to want to be anywhere else. This is Wednesday to a tee. The band has condensed their sound to the point of maximum impact, and while I look forward to many more live shows jumping around to “Townies” and singing along to “Elderberry Wine,” the mind reels wondering where they all could take this next, because the answer truly feels like it could be anywhere.

Read our full review of Bleeds here.

1 | Caroline Rose – year of the slug

Dear reader, let me ask you a question… Do you like the way things are right now? Are you happy with The Arrangement? Content to sit back, uphold the norm, and wait for things to get better? Odds are, your answer is something along the lines of ‘fuck no,’ and that’s why you’re here reading this. I’m speaking broadly, but only because this dissatisfaction is omnidirectional and widely applicable. We’re not solving any of the world’s systemic issues in the opening paragraph of a DIY publication’s album of the year roundup, but maybe we can break things down and make it feel more digestible.

This summer, news broke that Spotify CEO Daniel EK was investing 700 Million Euros into Helsing, an AI defense company that primarily makes drones and surveillance systems. As a response, hundreds of artists pulled their music off Spotify and users quit the platform in droves out of protest. The same thing happened a couple of months later when Spotify started running ICE recruitment ads while members of the organization were actively terrorizing citizens in Portland and Chicago.

It feels especially prescient then that when Caroline Rose announced year of the slug back in January, she specifically went out of her way to outline that the album would not be on Spotify or any other streaming platform besides Bandcamp. Similarly, when Rose took the album on the road, they only toured independent venues; the kinds of places that are simultaneously an endangered species and the backbone of the music industry. Between all of this –the AI music, the Live Nation monopoly, the merch cuts, the shrinking margins, and the execs who can only think in terms of statistics and streaming numbers– Rose carved out space to release a collection of songs entirely on their own terms.

year of the slug is a masterful, enchanting, intentioned, personable, honest, and singular collection of songs that function in the exact way an album should. Even just by breaking out of the Spotify Cycle of constantly-flowing new releases that treats music less like art and more like “content,” Rose made a record that you have to go out of your way to intentionally experience and listen to. This alone forces you to engage with the music on a more thoughtful level, experiencing the record on its own terms, not as part of a queue.

In that same album announcement, Rose explained the sort of philosophy behind the record, contrasting that, “in lieu of A.l. perfection, slug contains the sounds of my life–cupboards slamming, birds chirping, the garbage trucks that plague me every Thursday.” The result is a pared-down batch of songs that sound beautifully flawed and human.

The album was tracked on GarageBand through Rose’s phone, so things typically revolve around the most basic of musical ingredients: vocals and an acoustic guitar. While on one hand you could hear that and think “this sounds like unfinished demos,” it could just as equally evoke the stark, barebones imperfection of an album like Nebraska. I personally tend toward the latter, with the minimal arrangements only serving to highlight the elements that do come through. There’s no room for anything to get muddled or washed out. To borrow a phrase from the opening track, everything in its right place, especially the fuck-ups.

The songs themselves are brilliant, with Rose’s ear for melody and knack for sticky phrasing shining on nearly every track. Whether it’s the piercing hurt of “to be lonely” or the spaghetti western stomp of “goddamn train,” year of the slug is an album that delights in the simple pleasure of a sip of Mexican beer and the raw humanity of a Taco Bell order. What’s more, this is an album where I can glance at the tracklist, read a song title, and immediately call to mind what it sounds like. Can’t say the same thing for most records I listened to this year.

To close, I’d like to ask the same question I did at the beginning of this entry: Do you like the way things are right now? If the answer is no, I think it’s time to make a change. It doesn’t have to be all at once; it doesn’t even have to be multiple things. You don’t have to quit everything, leave society, and lead a hermetic life. Maybe it’s just as simple as taking the $10 you give to a company each month and directing it to an artist on Bandcamp to experience their album. I think that’s more rewarding than clicking on a stream, chasing “scalability,” following virality for the next big thing. This could be your next obsession, and that’s the only one that matters.

December 11, 2025

The Best Song(s) of 2025

December 11, 2025/ The Swim Team

I’m gonna be honest with you guys, I have no idea what I’m doing running this site. More often than not, it feels like I’m wingin’ it. All I know is geek out about music that I like and do whatever sounds fun.

A bunch of this year’s best interviews, reviews, and retrospectives were things brought to me by our team of talented writers. It’s their interests that spark things, their obsessions they want to share, and their Special Interest Guys they want to talk about. Most of the time, I’m just a dude who says ‘yes,’ sends a few emails, and does some editing.

This back-and-forth is also how great ideas get cooked up. All it takes is one suggestion, and suddenly we’re off to the races, instituting something like Hater’s Delight, making a wacked-out Valentine’s Day mixtape, or celebrating a decade of this site in the most specific possible way. Last year, in addition to something expected like a roundup of our favorite albums of the year, we also hosted a wrestling-themed smackdown of our favorite songs and a nerdy-ass peek behind the curtains, both of which were formulated by good-old-fashioned bullshitting and committing to the bit.

This year, when I asked the Swim Team if anyone wanted to write about their favorite songs of the year, the response was something along the lines of “don’t need to when ‘Elderberry Wine’ exists,” which received a slew of enthusiastic responses as we collectively turned over the idea of a roundup that’s just a bunch of people’s love for “Elderberry Wine.” Sure, there are other songs we liked this year, but in a way, something like this feels more applicable to 2025 than any countdown or assemblage of tracks ever could. Please pop your finest bottle of champagne, crank up “Elderberry Wine,” and enjoy these thoughts about, seemingly, our entire team’s favorite song of 2025.

Taylor Grimes | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

When I saw Wednesday on the Bleeds tour this November, lead single “Elderberry Wine” was buried so deep in the setlist that I had almost forgotten about it. I was so wrapped up in revelry watching one of my favorite rock bands burn through tracks off their first four albums that the absence of their latest record’s lead single didn’t even register until the band started playing those opening notes, and suddenly the entire sold-out venue was singing along. While I’ll always admire them for their balance of head-bobbing heaviness and North Carolina country, “Elderberry Wine” stands as Wednesday’s purest distillation of the latter – a sparkling thing of beauty that shimmers like water and sparkles like mesquite BBQ. We’re lucky to be on the same plane as Wednesday.

My other favorite song of the year is “IDFC” by Spirit Desire.

Caro Alt | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Tested and approved activities for Elderberry Wining if you have never Elderberry Wined before: lazily tossing magnolia leaves into a campfire just to hear them crackle as the water in their veins evaporates while waiting for your friends to join you. Driving a U-Haul in the rain and arguing over the directions (you are absolutely going the wrong way) before accidentally stumbling upon the World’s Biggest Ball of Yarn on the side of the highway and forgetting why you were so mad. Ordering your third favorite beer at that one dive because they don’t have your favorite beer or your second favorite beer and realizing you’re kinda starting to like this beer the most.

My other favorite song of the year is “Sue me” by Audrey Hobert.

Grace Robins-Somerville | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

From the creekside vineyards of North Carolina comes this bittersweet, full-bodied red with top notes of elderberry. Pop open a bottle at your next date night or game night (just don’t flip the board), and I guarantee everyone will get along just fine! Pairs well with pickled eggs, mostly-CBD joints, pedal steel, and premature nostalgia for the present. Do not consume elderberry wine if you are pregnant or operating a motor vehicle (electric or otherwise). A taste of the Carolinas in every sip!

My other favorite song of the year is “I’m Your Man” by My Wonderful Boyfriend.

Cassidy Sollazzo | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

I was a Wednesday skeptic once. And yes, it did fill me with shame. Then I went crazy off the “Elderberry Wine.” Then I read Karly Hartzman’s Vulture essay. Then I re-listened to the entire Wednesday discography 10 times over. Tears, contemplation, a skipped heartbeat here and there. Then, an awakening. Badda bing badda boom, skeptic more. Now that’s some powerful stuff!

My other favorite song of the year is “Stateside (with Zara Larsson)” by PinkPantheress and Zara Larsson.

Lillian Weber | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

I was awestruck when I first heard this song, realizing it was Wednesday’s masterpiece. When you first hear Karly Hartzman sing “a strong / reputation for being someone always / someone always” before that single word “down” explodes in guitar fuzz euphoria, do you not feel ecstasy? What could be better… Wait. We’re not all talking about “Townies?” Oh, “Elderberry Wine!” Gotcha. What a song! (Is this whole pretense of thinking we’re talking about“Townies” because if I think too hard about Hartzman singing the lines about having your babies and tornado skies over those guitars that are simply romantic I will spiral at the idea of a love so true? Yes. Yes indeed.) What a chorus!

My other favorite song of the year is “make it last” by Total Wife.

Elias Amini | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

There’s something about the toe-to-heel, side-to-side sway of “Elderberry Wine” that made it feel immediately nostalgic to me. Karly Hartzman finds herself amongst the likes of Hope Sandoval, Ben Gibbard, Mark Morrison, and Tracy Chapman (as well as many others) who’ve crafted a truly timeless single that can only age with splendor and grace. You may ask yourself, do we really need an entire article collectively stroking our shit to this song? To which I answer: quite frankly, yes. Yes, we do, that’s really how great this song is and how well it will stand the test of time (the rest of the album falls a bit short for me, but that's a different article). “Elderberry Wine” doesn’t simply deserve a crown for being the best song of the year; it deserves to be etched into music's grand and storied history.

My other favorite song of the year is “Si chiuse stanca la ferita” by Chevalier.

Jason Sloan | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

A little sweet for my taste, but at least it went down easy. Even got through two bottles. Wait… this was supposed to be a song review? Fuck. I’m so fucjing drunk,

My other favorite song of the year is “You got time and I got money” by Smerz.

Braden Allmond | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

The best wine is the one you enjoy the most, even if that’s a Miller High Life. Every time I hear “Elderberry Wine,” there’s a new flavor, an unplaceable pang, and a somehow ever-smoother finish. The song gives away its own secret in the first line: “Sweet song is a long con.” If you don’t think too hard about drinking, it just feels good, and you can overlook—or forget—the damage being done to your body. The song is cute, indie, romantic, and has a country gloss six coats deep. But every new line belies a little doubt: an impending car repair, stormy eyes, and a drink that doesn’t taste bad by a long shot, but it just doesn’t taste how it should.

My other favorite song of the year is “Are You There?” by Sport.

Logan Archer Mounts | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

“Elderberry Wine” is a rare song that transforms your whole opinion about a band. I found Wednesday’s Rat Saw God to be one of the most overrated albums of 2023, and I couldn't understand at all what people were connecting to on it. Then, in the first swing of my Wednesday 180, MJ Lenderman’s Manning Fireworks landed in my number one (non-metal) album spot last year. That primed me to give the band another shot with their latest album, Bleeds, and I’m so glad that I did. I’ve revisited Rat Saw God in the months since Bleeds has been out, and I’ve certainly warmed to it more, but I truly believe “Elderberry Wine” is Karly Hartzman’s finest songwriting moment of her career, a miracle lap alt-country classic that’s the centerpiece of the excellent Bleeds album.

My other favorite song of the year is “Porcelain” by Neil Cicierega.

Katie Hayes | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

It took me until this year to drink the Wednesday wine, and it started with this song. Warm guitar chords and wistful lyrics open the song, and I can feel my blood pressure mellow out. But it’s not necessarily easy listening. Tart with sorrow, a little woozy with loss, there’s a stunning depth to “Elderberry Wine” I didn’t hear anywhere else this year. I’ll toast to that.

My other favorite song of the year is “North Poles” by Samia.

Caleb Doyle | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

The brilliance of Wednesday and Karly Hartzman is this: in a catalog full of fuzzed-out, heavy, twangy alt-Country, they still effortlessly lay down a highly effective pure Country Western track. The chorus of “Elderberry Wine” is one of the most profound earworms I’ve ever dealt with. I wake up thinking about how everybody gets along just fine. The lyrics are prime Hartzman yearn–up there with Dolly Parton’s “The Seeker,” and Hank Williams’ “So Lonesome I Could Cry.” It’s a perfect song, even if it was just the chorus and Xandy Chelmis’ pedal steel.

My other favorite song of the year is “SPIDERS” by Lola Young

Blog

Tinted Windows – Tinted Windows

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard – Nonagon Infinity

The The – Dusk

Citizen – As You Please

The Jimi Hendrix Experience – Electric Ladyland

Third Eye Blind – Third Eye Blind

Fiona Apple – When the Pawn…

Kyuss – Blues for the Red Sun

Drug Church – Cheer

Mowmow Lulu Gyaban — 野口、久津川で爆死 [Noguchi, kutsukawa de bakushi]

Kanye West – My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

Against Me! – The Disco Before the Breakdown

Best Witches – Jail

Turnover – Peripheral Vision

my better half – mybetterhalf.

The Chemical Brothers – Come With Us

Fall Out Boy – Folie à Deux

My Sister’s Fugazi Shirt – Man Fears the Darkness, and So He Scrapes Away at the Edges of It With Fire

Honorable Mentions

Alien Boy – “Seventeen”

Brahm – “I will find you”

The Meters – “Mardi Gras Mambo”

ManDancing – “I Really Like You (Carly Rae Jepsen cover)”

Oso Oso – “skippy”

Touché Amoré – “Come Heroine”

The Smashing Pumpkins – “Stand Inside Your Love”

Kings of Leon – “Find Me”

Angel Olsen – “Spring”

MUNA – “Kind Of Girl”

Drive By Truckers – The Dirty South

Grateful Dead – Dick’s Picks 15: Raceway Park, Englishtown NJ, 9/3/77

Jay-Z – The Blueprint

Superheaven – Jar

Motion City Soundtrack – Even If It Kills Me

Knocked Loose – A Different Shade Of Blue

Ratboys – The Window

Portishead – Dummy

Dire Straits – Love Over Gold

Nine Inch Nails – With Teeth

12 Rods – If We Stayed Alive

Oklou – choke enough

The Weepies – Hideaway

Lorde – Melodrama

The Avalanches – We Will Always Love You

Honorable Mentions

13 | First Day Back – Forward

12 | Ribbon Skirt – Bite Down

11 | Michael Cera Palin – We Could Be Brave

10 | Greg Freeman – Burnover

9 | Florry – Sounds Like…

8 | Colin Miller – Losin’

7 | Geese – Getting Killed

6 | Alex G – Headlights

5 | Spirit Desire – Pets

4 | Algernon Cadwallader – Trying Not to Have a Thought

3 | Ryan Davis & the Roadhouse Band – New Threats from the Soul

2 | Wednesday – Bleeds

1 | Caroline Rose – year of the slug

Taylor Grimes | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Caro Alt | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Grace Robins-Somerville | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Cassidy Sollazzo | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Lillian Weber | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Elias Amini | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Jason Sloan | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Braden Allmond | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Logan Archer Mounts | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Katie Hayes | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Caleb Doyle | Wednesday – “Elderberry Wine”

Swim Into The Sound

Swim StuffHome PageMain FeedSwim SelectsPhotographyThe Swim TeamMixtape CornerFavorite ArticlesTaylor’s EssentialsAboutMerchSearchArchive

This Week’s Swim Select

Explore by CategoryReviewsInterviewsRoundupsRetrospectivesFoodVideoEnd of Year

Recent Articles

Swim Stuff
Home Page
Main Feed
Swim Selects
Photography
The Swim Team
Mixtape Corner
Favorite Articles
Taylor’s Essentials
About
Merch
Search
Archive

This Week’s
Swim Select

Explore by Category
Reviews
Interviews
Roundups
Retrospectives
Food
Video
End of Year