The Best of Q1 2022

We’re officially a fourth of the way through 2022 (or at the end of “Q1,” as those in the ~industry~ call it), and we’ve been blessed with an absolute glut of incredible new music. In lieu of the monthly roundups we did throughout 2021, I’ve been keeping an ongoing thread of my favorite releases over on Twitter which has helped me keep up on the neverending supply of new music. Now that we’ve crossed this natural beat a quarter of the way through the year, I figured what better time than now to sit down and take stock of my favorite albums released thus far? Here are ten outstanding records from the first few months of 2022 that have already managed to leave an impression on me despite our relatively short time together. 

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Anxious - Little Green House

Run For Cover Records

It’s easy to listen to Anxious and compare them to Title Fight. Ever since the Pennsylvanian rock group unceremoniously dissolved in 2015, people have always been searching for the “next Title Fight.” While that comparison is ultimately meant as a compliment, Little Green House feels like so much more than superficial worship of a bygone era. If anything, I find myself comparing this band to Adventures, a short-lived yet highly-influential pop-punk side project with just the occasional tinge of hardcore. 

Little Green House opens with a flat-out ripper in “Your One Way Street,” a song that kicks off with a killer drum fill and charges forth with a muscular chord progression. The vocals vault from a heartfelt croon to a full-throated scream, eventually falling into a beautiful harmony for the chorus. It’s a two-minute sample platter of everything the band has to offer, wrapped in immaculate production and a self-assured presentation. The hits keep coming with the spring-flavored “In April” and the poppy “Growing Up Song.” Side A closer “Wayne” is a mid-album pit-stop before the raging “Speechless” drops the listener back into the full-throttle embrace. Choices like this lead to the album’s peaks and valleys feeling very well-placed, all of which resolve with a gentle landing on the closing track, “You When You’re Gone.” Little Green House is a fantastic debut that’s clean, catchy, and feels as if it came straight out of the golden age of Run For Cover. 

Band of Horses - Things Are Great

BMG

Pitched as a return to form, Things Are Great not only evokes the folksy indie rock of the first two Band of Horses albums but also stands on its own as a pleasant, laid-back excursion for the modern age. It’s the musical equivalent of a soft reboot where you don’t need to concern yourself with the official canon, studio rights, or any other needless behind-the-scenes details. All that matters is the collection of ten songs that sit before you and how much they rule. 

Back in November, I lamented how often Band of Horses gets lumped in with terribly-aged “Hey Ho” Lumineers-type music while also arguing the deeper virtues of Everything All The Time. Maybe it's just because that deep dive is still fresh, but I can see multiple obvious parallels between the band’s first album and their latest. You’ve got a few free-wheeling singles in “Crutch,” “Lights,” and “In Need of Repair” that coexist beautifully alongside slightly more heady stuff like “Aftermath” and lackadaisical porchside kickbacks like “In The Hard Times.” Things Are Great is everything I could want from a Band of Horses record, and it feels like this release could genuinely stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the group’s first couple of LPs, even if it still feels like the newer younger brother.

Beach House - Once Twice Melody

Sub Pop Records

Look, do I really have to sell you on a new Bach House record? I obviously love the band, but you know exactly what you’re getting into here. A 90-minute affair split into four parts released over four months, Once Twice Melody is the type of album you can throw on and fully submerge yourself in. From the anthemic title track to the trap-drum “Pink Funeral” and the hypnotic “Over and Over,” there’s more than enough to sink your teeth into here. Once Twice Melody is a gold and glossy wonderland perfect for late-night smoke sessions, mid-day make-outs, and everything in between.

Black Country, New Road - Ants From Up There

Ninja Tune

I can’t remember the last time I heard an album like Ants From Up There… In fact, I may have never heard an album like Ants From Up There. The second LP from Black Country, New Road was preceded– and nearly overshadowed –by the news that lead singer Isaac Wood was departing from the band mere days before the album’s release. While this certainly shifted how Ants From Up There was received and interpreted, I can’t think of a better note to end one’s career on than this collection of songs. This record is heartfelt and heartwrenching, finding a group of young creatives at various crossroads in their personal and professional lives. The lyrics are poetic and abstract yet hit upon extremely personal struggles. The songs bend and wind in unexpected ways, expanding and contracting under the weight of their own anguish and celebration. 

I wrote about this record (in my own incredibly abstract way) back when it was first released, and in the time since then, it has become symbolic of so many things to me. Closely tied to what is now a fully-fledged relationship with someone I feel incredibly lucky to know and love, this album means more to me than I can possibly put into a few-hundred-word blurb. This album speaks to me in ways that I never knew I needed and now represents something much bigger than the songs found within its walls. I love this record, I love my partner, and I feel lucky to have these memories and emotions tied to a single work of art so concretely. Much like the album itself, these feelings are bigger than any one song or sentiment. Ants is an insurmountable work that brushes up against the inarticulable in a way that has helped me understand my own life and love on a deeper level. 

Camp Cope - Running with the Hurricane

Run For Cover Records

It’s been four years since How To Socialize and Make Friends, and I am glad Camp Cope is back. Captivating as ever, Running with the Hurricane centers around the trifecta that made the group’s prior work so compelling; Georgia Maq’s iconic voice, Kelly-Dawn Helmrich’s bouncy basswork, and Sarah Thompson’s steady drumming holding everything together. It’s a triad that has driven this band apart from every other pier in their field and resulted in some of the most distinct output in the indie/emo sphere. 

Running with the Hurricane follows similar beats as previous Camp Cope LPs, buoyed by the stunning opener “Caroline” and the explosive, rolling heartland rock of its title track. The band winds through relationships, strife, and loss throughout the intervening seven songs, eventually landing on the cathartic “Sing Your Heart Out,” which I am man enough to admit that I openly sobbed to. Camp Cope is a band unlike any other, with a voice and a sound as outspoken as the members themselves. It’s good to have them back.

Carly Cosgrove - See You In Chemistry

Wax Bodega

An iCarly-themed emo band. That’s the elevator pitch for Carly Cosgrove, and odds are you will either balk at that or be sold immediately depending on your age and tolerance for committing to the bit. While the band’s schtick is funny and novel, the good news is (beyond their song titles and the occasional veiled reference), your enjoyment of this album is not dependent on your knowledge of mid-aughts Nickelodeon sitcoms. 

Going into this record, my main concern was the same with most emo LPs: will I like this for a full 40+ minutes? This genre is so entrenched in EPs, singles, and splits, and it’s pretty common for that bite-sized energy not to translate into a full-length record. I’m happy to report that Carly Cosgrove nailed it, though. Like any good emo band, the opening track “Sit ‘n’ Bounce” ignites with crowd-churning midwest guitar taps and clap-inspiring kick drums which immediately brings the energy up to a 10. Over the course of its 43-minute runtime, the band lays confessional and hyper-relatable lyrics about anxiety, mental health, and living in extremes over dynamic and ever-shifting instrumentation. See You In Chemistry is excellently sequenced, superbly written, even sticks the landing with an 8-minute closing track, a feat for any band, much less one this young. The result is an energetic and youthful debut that’s affable, affirming, and firmly committed to its vision.

Chastity - Suffer Summer

Deathwish Inc.

Much like Dazy, Chastity is a one-man project concerned with fuzzy grunge riffs and utterly immaculate hooks. Holding equal reverence for both Smashing Pumpkins and Jimmy Eat World, Suffer Summer is an album composed of breezy pop-punk tracks that gradually melt, giving way to the heaviness of reality. Each song boasts an earworm chorus, often in the form of a single infinitely-repeatable phrase, making it easy to belt along. Tracks like “Pummeling” feel as if they could have wormed their way into an early-2000s movie soundtrack right alongside the likes of heavy-hitters like “All The Small Things” and “The Middle.” Once the listener has acclimated to the sunnier sound of its first few songs, Suffer Summer takes some unexpected half-steps into neighboring genres and heavier topics, offering a fulfilling journey in just 34 minutes.

Cloakroom - Dissolution Wave

Relapse Records Inc.

Due solely to when it was released, Dissolution Wave essentially acted as the definitive close to my Obsessive Shoegaze Winter. I was in a dark place for a few months there, and this record felt like the perfect way to finally find closure and pull myself out of that spiral. A high-concept album pitched as a “space western in which an act of theoretical physics wipes out all of humanity’s existing art and abstract thought,” Dissolution Wave bears all the fuzzy, wobbly, soul-crushing riffs you can hope for from a shoegaze act as legendary as Cloakroom. There are catchy cuts like “A Force at Play,” bleary stoner rock tone on “Fear of Being Fixed,” and even some woozy countrygaze on “Doubts.” Despite its sky-high concept, Dissolution Wave remains an accessible shoegaze LP that offers an excellent case for the best of what the genre has to offer. 

Drunk Uncle - Look Up

Count Your Lucky Stars Records

Look, I can’t help it; I love that tappy shit. There’s something about my brain where it hears good midwest emo and releases a truckload of dopamine without fail. Does that sound goofy and extremely on-brand? Sure, but who am I to question it? Luckily for myself and others like me, Drunk Uncle brings the riffage in spades on their debut album. Released on the legendary label Count Your Lucky Stars, Look Up already had all the makings of a classic emo record before it even dropped. 

The album kicks off with a bouncy jostle and full-throated caterwaul. The tapping begins almost immediately, which, when paired with these remorseful wails, fills the Marietta-shaped hole in my heart. The sound remains remarkably consistent from the clappy lead single “Depakote” to the arid “Blue Skies,” but things take an unexpected electronic ascent mid-album. The band wanders from heartbreak to pensive ambient stretches before resolving tenaciously on the album’s horn-adored title track. It may be a modest 33-minute album from a band with a goofy name, but Look Up is pretty much everything I could ever want from an emo record. There’s no doubt in my mind that this album would be viewed as a classic within the genre if it had been released ten or even five years earlier. If there’s any justice in this world, Look Up will find its audience and eventually achieve that status in due time.

Proper. - The Great American Novel

Father/Daughter Records

The Great American Novel is a tome in album form. A densely-packed 15 tracks clocking in at just under an hour, the third LP from the Brooklyn-based indie rock group acts as a dispatch on life in America. Firmly rooted in its creator's perspective as a trio of Black creatives existing in primarily white spaces, this album is an unflinching dissection of everyday life in a country that alternates between indifference and outright objection to your existence. 

This album is a sharp synthesis of countless vital topics, and a huge part of what makes it such an exhilarating listen is how wide-set the scope is. Songs navigate everything from the music industry and masculinity to meaningless sex and complicated family trees, all in concise and compelling ways. Amongst these topics, the band also weaves a throughline of heavier, more complex subjects like systemic racism, the prison industrial complex, and the idea of identity and belonging. These are all inextricable facts of life for the band members of Proper, which is reflected in these songs in a beautifully heartbreaking way. Musically, the range of genres on display is just as diverse as the lyrics, with sounds stemming from a baseline of emo-flavored indie rock but stretching to shreddy heavy metal guitar, pitch-shifted spoken word passages, pissed-off beatdown vent sessions, and System of a Down-style political takedowns. Somehow, The Great American Novel lives up to its name; an impressive, diverse, and powerful document that offers an essential perspective on topics that can sometimes feel too big to broach, much less compartmentalize into a single song.

Feeling It All for the First Time

We are coming up on two years of a world-altering event. Two years of learning a new mode of operation. Two years of living alongside death and disfunction on a previously unforeseen scale. We have been witness to horrors and dreads that I could never have conceived of, and we are still subject to them every day. We’ve all learned to cope with this change in different ways, and I’ve only recently begun to recognize my own. 

To that end, I’ve learned a great deal about myself over the last two years. I’ve started to recognize my strengths and my faults from a more objective distance. I’ve discovered what makes me powerful and unique. Conversely, I’ve also uncovered things I need to work on and improve. Things I want to work on and improve.

I’ve only recently realized that, over the course of my adult life, I’ve gotten increasingly detached from my feelings. First, it was to build up a protective wall against rejection both romantically and professionally. The romantic side speaks for itself, but I also work in a creative field, and it can feel awful when someone criticizes your thoughts or picks apart something you’ve worked so hard on. Regardless, in both of these cases, there’s nothing worse than putting yourself out there and being met with either indifference or flat-out rejection.

Over the span of years, those feelings, both good and bad, have all faded. At various points, I’d like to think that the gradual disconnect between my head and my heart has aided me immensely. Living through everything we have over the past couple of years has been hard, and being able to compartmentalize all of that trauma has been a method I’ve used to help continue onward. It may not be the right tool, but it is a tool. 

But the thing about compartmentalization is that those compartments need to open up eventually. 

Once I started taking stock, I realized I was sitting on massive caches of these little compartments. Years and years worth of bottled-up feelings that I’ve been stockpiling. Once I began to realize the scope of these unaddressed emotions, I had no idea what to do next. I’m not sure what I need to do with them or how I can even articulate them. It feels like an almost impossible task.

Despite all this, I’m an optimist. As arduous and improbable as this journey seems, the wonderful part is that being in touch with your feelings brings good just as much as it brings bad. You’re of no use to anyone cold and indifferent, and that’s what the world wants.

Once I started to realize this, I made it my mission to feel things more. First, it was a lot of pain and betrayal. Then it was anger at myself and at the world. Eventually, it scaled up to grappling with systematic problems and figuring out not only how I fit into those, but how I can reject or dismantle them. Ultimately, the conclusion I arrived at is that things may be bleak, but I still have hope. And that is enough.

Sure, you can bottle things up and pass through life. I can’t deny the appeal to that. It’s pragmatic and, in some ways, easier than the alternative. But after a while, you start to feel like a ghost.

So I’ve been grappling with all of this over the past few months. I’ve been trying to improve myself, consciously recognize my own thought patterns, and include myself in my feelings more often. Ironically, I realized that this whole time I’d only been rejecting myself. It’s been a hard process, but it’s work that I finally want to do. It’s work that I owe myself and the people in my life; I want to be better for myself and for them.

Just as I have been coming to terms with this process and found myself standing out over the cliff of all this, something beautiful has happened. I met someone who is sweet, and loving, and smart, and kind, and brilliant, and inspiring, and beautiful, and funny. I really like them, and somehow they really like me. And I don’t feel worthy of it.

I think that this is all happening at the same time for a reason. So I can embark upon this journey with a goal. To continue to feel these feelings and to use love as the carrot on the end of the stick. The same week that this relationship came to fruition, Black Country, New Road released Ants From Up There.

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I’m not really a post-punk guy, but this also isn’t a post-punk record. This album has been on my radar since it was announced, but I wouldn’t say I was particularly excited for it. I didn’t listen to any of the singles, and I haven’t been revisiting any of their past work. The band name and album title have just been sitting there in my new music Google doc staring at me unfeelingly in a 12 point Calibri font for months. 

This isn’t even really a post about this album. I’m not going to talk about the songs or the lyrics, or the lineup drama, or anything of that nature. Go to Pitchfork for that. This is a post about serendipity. 

In listening to Ants, one thing began to emerge; the idea of feelings. It didn’t remind me of the band’s first album (which I liked fine at the time, but didn’t really return to much). For The First Time was artsy and winding and poetic, but it was also dark and mired in itself. Ants From Up There feels like the opposite. While the first album anguished in the details of everyday life, the group’s sophomore album feels like a direct counterpoint. This album is marvelous, soaring, and affirming. It reaches out for something beautiful and external as opposed to looking inward and digging out something dark. But I guess what I’m learning is that you have to do one before you can do the other. You have to do at least some of the hard work before reaping the rewards; otherwise, it all just rings hollow. 

This album feels like breaking through the clouds and seeing the world from a new perspective. It’s feeling hope and love for the first time in far too long. It’s returning to your own feelings like the comforting warmth of a friend. It’s exhilarating, and it’s exhausting.

Once I finished the record, I thought to myself, ‘I don’t know how I’m supposed to just go on about my day.’ That’s something I haven’t felt in ages, but also something that I was lucky enough to have felt once earlier this week after sharing my heart with that same person I mentioned earlier. It reminded me how good it can feel to experience those things. It feels like a grand affirmation to have this album released the same week, and in so many ways, it feels like a sign. It feels like I’m doing the right thing, that I’m moving in the right direction. It feels like I’m ready to love and be loved.

In the wake of this album, I am writing a lot, but I am also speechless. Ants From Up There sounds like the totality of feeling, and for the first time in a long time, I am ready to open myself up to that. Life is going to be hard, but there’s a power to be felt in that admission. 

There’s beauty to be witnessed alongside the horror.
There’s love to be held alongside the pain.
There’s triumph to be felt alongside the discord.
That’s what makes it all worth it.

I am awestruck by the size of it
I am small, and I am humbled.
I am daunted, and I am scared.
But I am also ready to open myself up to it. 
Finally.

The Best of February 2021

In writing this month’s batch of mini-reviews, I realized that the title of this series is slightly misleading. These albums aren’t necessarily the “best” of the month; that’s a bit of a misnomer. None of these albums are objectively better or worse than anything else that released this month. These are simply the albums that I’ve been listening to the most and therefore have the most thoughts on. I still recommend checking each of these releases out, it’s just that some of these albums are great, and some are only great to me. Speaking of which, this seems like a perfect segue into the first record on our roundup...

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Foo Fighters - Medicine at Midnight

Roswell Records

For better or worse, I am a Foo Fighters Fan. I spent the better part of my middle school years discovering alternative rock with the Foo Fighters discography paving the way. Even as I fell in love with new genres and more “exciting” artists throughout high school and college, Foo Fighters remained a constant companion and a reliable source of competently-made hard rock. I made a yearly tradition out of watching Back and Forth, and about once a year, I’ll have a short but torrid love affair with the band, leaning more towards their pre-Sonic Highways albums. In the lead-up to Medicine at Midnight, I devoured reviews, think pieces, interviews, and rankings, unknowingly re-igniting my love for the band just in time for the group’s newest offering. Medicine at Midnight is a step above the last two Foo Fighters albums with songs that range from drum-led choirs, hard-charging guitar licks, and even Queens of the Stone Age-esque desert rock. All of these tracks utilize the band’s standard components (an over-abundance of guitars, solid rhythm sections, and Dave Grohl’s signature snarl), but they’re also filtered through a slightly dancy lens that gives the songs a noticeable amount of bounciness and life. I can see why someone wouldn’t like Foo Fighters, especially Medicine at Midnight; this is music that would fit just as well in a Dodge commercial as it would on my high school iPod, but that’s the duality of Foo Fighters, and consequently why I love them. 

Vampire Weekend - 40:42

Spring Snow, LLC

As a longtime post-rock fan, I’ve always joked that I’m just one step away from getting into jam bands. On top of that, I’m a hardcore Ween fan (a jam-adjacent band) and have spent hours listening to a podcast about Phish. In other words, that jam-band-guy-tendency has always been there, lying in wait for the perfect moment to strike. When Vampire Weekend dropped the Grateful Dead-worshipping Father Of The Bride in 2019, my interest was peaked. I’ve always liked Vampire Weekend but never consider myself a big fan. Nevertheless, Father was one of my favorite releases of that year. As I followed the album’s release cycle and watched how the band extended the songs out into longer, more jammy live renditions, I knew it was only a matter of time until the jam band thing came full-circle. Now with 40:42, the prophecy has been fulfilled. This release sees Vampire Weekend tapping jazz musician Sam Gendel and jam band Goose to remix “2021,” both artists blowing the song out into 20-minute and 21-second pieces of their respective genres to awe-inspiring and vibe-filled effect. 

Black Country, New Road - For the first time

Ninja Tune

Somewhere between Slint, Shame, and the first album by A Lot Like Birds lies Black Country, New Road. Extremely verbose and very British, For the first time is a wonderful debut that sees a band unflinchingly committed to their post-punk aesthetic. The record kicks off with “Instrumental,” which is a borderline post-rock track centered around a needly Klezmer riff, frantic drumming, and woeful saxophone. That opening salvo paves the way for ranting tales of science fair downfalls, romantic French encounters, and escaping behind the faint veneer offered by a pair of sunglasses. The lyrics include references to six-part Danish crime dramas, matcha shots, NutriBullets, and micro-influencers, all of which are delivered in a shaky, unstable vibrato that makes it sounds as if the narrator could burst at the seams at any minute. Though the release may only contain six songs, the 40-minute running time leaves the listener emotionally winded in its wake. 

Wild Pink - A Billion Little Lights

Royal Mountain Records

When I first heard Wild Pink’s breakthrough sophomore album, Yolk In The Fur,  it felt like a revelation. Heartland rock with a jangly indie rock twist and just a drop of emo? Not only did it feel tailor-made for me, but it was unlike anything I’d ever heard before. In fact, go back and read the July 2018 equivalent of this monthly roundup, and my excitement is still palpable. Three years later, A Billion Little Lights takes that sound and offers up more of the same. At first, the worst thing I could say about the new Wild Pink album is that it sounded exactly like the last Wild Pink album. That’s not a bad thing, just a little unexciting. Then I put the record on while driving, and boom, it came alive. As I flew down the highway, the album seemed to bloom around me, rising and falling with the hills off in the distance. It felt like that’s how these songs were meant to be heard. Of course listening to these songs alone in my apartment wasn’t going to hit the same. 

At times on songs like “Oversharers Anonymous,” it still sounds like I’m listening to something that could have come straight off of Yolk, but I don’t think that’s inherently bad. There are some cool, unique moments like a weird glitchy synth-based breakdown in “The Shining but Tropical” and a cathartic finish on “Die Outside,” and sometimes that’s all you need. If this is your first experience with Wild Pink, I emphatically recommend listening to this album and absorbing it fully, especially if you're moving somewhere with a purpose.

Katy Kirby - Cool Dry Place

Keeled Scales

Out of all the artists releasing warm, sunny, brightly colored albums this month, Katy Kirby might have released the most exciting and dynamic. While Wild Pink takes a more wide-open heartland rock approach and Sun June affects a more pensive, inward style, Katy Kirby uses a lush and expansive sound to examine the fragility of human relationships. Whether it’s the tasteful use of autotune on “Traffic!” or the spellbinding build on “Secret Language,” nearly every track on Cool Dry Place offers something different. The songs are all bound together by the common denominator of Kirby’s affectionate delivery and soft production. The end result is a pleasant and inoffensive album that also offers a surprisingly deep and layered reflection. As Cool Dry Place winds from light indie rock to late-afternoon piano ballads, you can’t help but be taken in by the breadth of emotions contained within the record’s mere 28 minutes. 

Mister Goblin - Four People in an Elevator and One of Them Is the Devil

Exploding In Sound Records

Do you like Pedro the Lion? Do you remember Devil, the 2010 M. Night Shyamalan movie where five people are trapped in an elevator, and one of them also happens to be the devil? If you answered ‘yes’ to both of these questions, then you are in the very specific cross-section that Mister Goblin is speaking to. Despite the overly specific target market that I just laid out, an intimate familiarity with either of these subjects is not a pre-requisite to enjoying the sophomore album from the Two Inch Astronaut frontman. Some of the tracks like “Get Gone” call to mind a particular brand of light-hearted and good-natured indie rock evocative of Brendan Benson. Aside from the aforementioned Pedro the Lion, this release also feels tonally-reminiscent of early-2000s Vagrant rockers like The Anniversary, the Get Up Kids, or the New Amsterdams. It’s an album that’s sonically unbothered but lyrically distraught, a beguiling mixture that proved to be a fantastic first listen. 

Miss Grit - Impostor

Self-Released

Easily my biggest surprise of this month, Impostor is a fantastically diverse and economical EP that manages to sound simultaneously familiar and wholly unique. After a glitchy and off-kilter electronic opener that undercuts any preconceptions, “Buy The Banter” deploys a heavily fuzzed-out bassline and hypnotic chorus for a grungy Garbage effect. “Blonde” begins with a crystal clear instrumental and Mazzy Star-esque vocals before growing into a towering Smashing Pumpkins riff and fading into a dreamy outro. There’s the dancy “Grow Up To,” the chunky “Dark Side of the Party,” and the starry-eyed title track. Despite how unique all of these songs sound, they still feel unabashedly committed to Margaret Sohn’s vision. This is a fantastic and uncompromising EP that offers comforting familiarity wrapped around sounds that feel like a breath of fresh air.

Mogwai - As The Love Continues

Rock Action Records

Mogwai have been a musical companion of mine for about a decade now. Ever since I first discovered Come On Die Young back in high school, I’ve been a diehard fan of the Scottish post-rock stalwarts. In fact, Mogwai has a special place in this blog’s history as our first ever article, though I don’t necessarily recommend you go back and read that. As The Love Continues takes the collection of sounds that Mogwai has spent 25 years cultivating and hones them to a fine point. All the usual Mogwai trappings are here: a groovy electronic cut, the uptempo dance track, unforgettable vocoder usage, the song with vocals, and, perhaps most importantly, the distorted heavy-as-shit riff. The band is able to take all of these different approaches to the genre and cram them into a one-hour thrill ride that oscillates from triumphant to despair to destructive and back again multiple times over the course of its run time. Simply put, they don’t miss.

Quick Hits

Hayley Williams - FLOWERS for VASES / descansos - A second, more subtle solo outing from the Paramore bandleader that’s a little more acoustic than last year’s Petals for Armor, but still just as deeply felt. 

Skatune Network - Ska Goes Emo, Vol. 2 - Another collection of iconic tracks spanning multiple waves of emo, all adorned with horns and upstrokes courtesy of the DIY ska mastermind Jeremy Hunter.

Cory Wong - Cory and the Wongnotes - Another funky outing from one of the highly prolific minds behind Vulfpeck.

The Obsessives - Monastery - A pleasant three-track pop-rock outing that’s capped off with a wonderful Breeders cover.

For Your Health - In Spite Of - In the same class as Portrayal of Guilt, For Your Health offer up brutal and visceral hardcore that thrives in garages, basements, and other places you might accidentally get punched in the face.

Sun June - Somewhere - Are you more of a Jackie O or a Karen O? Well, on Somewhere Sun June argues you can be both, but only if it’s in service of love. 

Another Michael - New Music and Big Pop - A blissful, colorful, and lovely collection of tracks that oscillate between unbothered and crushingly realistic. A musical Starburst. 

Cassandra Jenkins - An Overview on Phenomenal Nature - yet another of this month’s pleasant, naturalistic albums, this one with gorgeous sax, therapeutic exercises, and one of the best wah-wah deployments I’ve heard since Childish Gambino’s “The Night Me and Your Mama Met.”

Jetty Bones - Push Back - Somewhere between the neon fake happiness of After Laughter and the immaculate production of Lover-era Taylor Swift is the debut album of Jetty Bones, equal parts danceable and cry-able.

Danny L Harle - Harlecore - 40 minutes of high-energy, high-BPM from the hyperpop-adjacent happy hardcore electronic musician.

God Is An Astronaut - Ghost Tapes #10 - Proficient post-rock that leans toward progressive heavy metal.

Adrian Younge - The American Negro - One of the most powerful albums I’ve heard in years yet am wholly unqualified to speak on. 

Black Sheep Wall - Songs for the Enamel Queen - Incredible hardcore that winds from towering soul-destroying breakdowns, throat-shredding screams, and winding atmospheric passages.

Of Mice & Men - Timeless - Three metalcore songs that swing hard but don’t always land.

Julien Baker - Little Oblivions - The first full-band album from Julien Baker hits all the marks you would expect: religion, queerness, and crippling self-doubt. 

Nervous Dater - Call In The Mess - Poppy emo rock that stretches all the way from earthly farms to the far reaches of outer space.

The Weather Station - Ignorance - An earthy and emotional indie rock album that feels like the nighttime counterpart to Saint Cloud’s sunshine.

American Poetry Club - Do You Believe In Your Heart - A distraught emo EP that feels like it could collapse at any moment under its own emotional weight.

Nick Cave & Warren Ellis - Carnage - A surprise-released album from Nick Cave and a single Bad Seed.

Cloud Nothings - The Shadow I Remember - Hard-charging punk rock in the vein of Titus Andronicus or Japandroids, just with a more naturalistic bent. 

Glitterer - Life is Not A Lesson - A dozen under-two minute cuts from the Title Fight frontman.

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard - L.W. - The second microtonal half of a double album from the ever-prolific and ever-psychedelic Aussies.

Half Waif - Orange Blossoms / Party’s Over - Two fresh tracks from the witchy and dancy electronica queen.