-
In Praise a Lord..., Tumor achieves the difficult task of remaining as perplexing as ever while forging a more inviting sound. With a vital richness throughout the sonic miasma they creates, Tumor effectively taps into their vulnerable side behind a robust backing band. While such a varied smattering of ideas can work against its benefit on occasion, Tumor hangs everything together with dark and inventive layers of pain that never relent.
-
As befits an artist who has quietly and organically developed in his own bubble, Hawk’s songwriting craft is refined and distinctive. On Angel Numbers he’s not so much writing songs as creating worlds around his vignettes. Idlewild’s Rod Jones (one of the nicest men in music) fleshes out the sonic architecture of Hawk’s creations with deftly-judged production. If 2021’s Heavy Elevator had a moody monochromatic feel, Angel Numbers sees Hawk and Jones throwing open the curtains and letting a little light and colour in. It wasn’t a strictly necessary development, but it’s not an unwelcome one either.
-
The prose in Norm is limited if purposedly enigmatic, in which he inserts just enough details instead of telling a series of events in a linear sequence. Shauf serves as an unreliable narrator of sorts, conjuring empathy in the darkest of minds. His cleverest trick, however, is writing music of unquestionable beauty, so transfixing that it makes you question if a menacing subtext is actually present.
-
Complete Mountain Almanac is a superficially pretty album, but you’ll need to afford it your full attention to unearth its full charms and appreciate its emotional depth. Grab your best headphones and really listen; you’ll soon discover there’s something very special going on here.
-
The conceptual narrative of the Murder Capital moving forward may seem like a tired trope, but it's also their truth, and when backed with songs this good, it justifies their wanting to document their growth as musicians. In distancing themselves from strictly writing within a post-punk framework, the band takes new and exciting rhythmic detours to accompany their slightly more optimistic, inward-looking reflections.
-
In a note to her fans, [Natalie] Mering has described And In The Darkness, Hearts Aglow as the center of a trilogy of albums. One that contends with being in “the thick of it.” Whether the album’s themes are apparent when awed by the sonics that surrounds them is likely of little matter to most listeners. Mering has concocted a successor to Titanic Rising that any gambler worth their salt would have no doubt taken the under on.
-
After the Earthquake provides the first glimpse of jangle and power-pop, the latter being a prevalent influence throughout. Historically, Alvvays have always been happy to tap into their love of Teenage Fanclub, but Blue Rev suggests they’ve ventured far further down the power-pop rabbit-hole in recent years. There are fleeting glimpses of Big Star naturally, but The dBs also spring to mind, especially in the sinewy guitar run that sparks Earthquake to life. It’s not quite the riff from Black and White, but it’s equally potent.
-
Beth Orton's career is one of resilience and pure talent, an artist who never stopped creating despite occasionally operating on the fringes of mainstream success. The folk-leaning UK singer-songwriter's stunning eighth LP couldn't be a more perfect introduction for those unfamiliar with her work, where she beckons the natural forces that move us through life with a steady, contemplative mood piece.
-
Natural Born Prom Queen finds strength in its nonlinearity, where Parks' resplendent R&B takes creative detours that mirror her stream-of-consciousness thoughts. Her biting observations, filled with a tapestry of intricate beat constructions, feel like listening to a fever dream that begs repeated listens.
-
The searing third album by the Swedish post-punk renegades is a manifesto on stupidity, taking their depraved, ideologically-charged satire into more sonically adventurous territory.
