New Album Release Round-Up: September 2026

Every month brings more new music than anyone can reasonably keep up with—even the No Ripcord team—and September was no different.

Our latest monthly round-up features quick takes on eight records we didn’t get around to covering in full.

Slow Pulp
Melodie
(Anti-)

Slow Pulp’s third album, Melodie, is a curious affair. It’s obviously more polished and cohesive than the Madison, Wisconsin band’s previous efforts, but it lacks the individuality that made Slow Pulp stand out in the first place. Melodie is Slow Pulp’s first time working with an external producer, and Elliott Kozel (ROSALÍA, Lizzo, and Yves Tumor) has certainly given them a mainstream-leaning sound. There are flashes of Phoebe Bridgers (“Red Car”), but Wolf Alice’s soft rock reinvention on The Clearing feels like a more obvious reference point. Tracks like “Better Man” may have one eye on the charts, but the sluggish Melodie feels like a step backwards for the quartet. (DC)

Arab Strap
Half-Told Tales
(Rock Action)

Every time you assume Arab Strap has said everything they needed to say, they find myriad more grievances to shout out. The Scottish rockers have bottomless ideas, both lyrically and sonically, with Half-Told Tales another in a string of recent releases that make you feel many emotions at once. The examples are too many to count, but highlights include “Glamour Magick,” in which Aidan Moffat writes one of the most resonant songs about the obsession with anti-aging in the social media age. On the acoustic-led “Sunsong,” which features an Afro-Antillean groove, he sounds comparatively optimistic about the promise of a new day. Again, this duo isn’t as miserable as they often let on. Even at their most familiar, as on the soul-searching post-rock of “Beats Per Minute,” Moffat gets poignantly specific about the transience of time: “We only have this moment/and it’s already gone.” (JR)

Homework
Bang Here If Stuck
(Meritorio)

Glasgow’s Homework sound like a band with great record collections. Their breezy, accessible debut album Bang Here If Stuck is a fun listen, but at times the Scottish quartet wear their influences a little too brazenly. I’ve spoken before about how my love for Pavement has developed into an aversion to Pavement soundalikes, and there are times here where the band’s Malkmus affectations are genuinely off-putting. “ASAP” is one of the more gratuitous examples, and while the vocals are a little more tempered on “Salt,” its melody still screams “Range Life.” When they look beyond Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain-era Pavement, however, Homework have more to offer. There are softer shades of Urusei Yatsura and Postcard Records, which feel a lot more authentic given their shared geography, while the snotty power pop of “Some Kind of Magic” faintly recalls the much-missed Exploding Hearts. Bang Here If Stuck is a solid debut, but Homework will need to jettison some of their bad habits if they are to excel. (DC)

Beabadoobee
Pylon
(Dirty Hit / Interscope)

In the six years since 2020’s Fake It Flowers, beabadoobee’s music has fit snugly into the softer side of ’90s adult alternative. After the more stripped-back, ballad-focused This Is How Tomorrow Moves, the Filipino-American amps up the guitars just a bit. She brings in an impressive roster of emo- and punk-adjacent collaborators to shake things up, from Chino Moreno and Hayley Williams to Brendan Yates. Yet even alongside a who’s who of accomplished modern rock artists, the abundance of features can occasionally feel like too much of a good thing. As a result, Pylon comes across as somewhat disjointed, even if its share of bright guitar-pop moments (“It’s Alright,” “Memories,” “Estranged”) covers a range of moods. Much of the album retains the youthful essence of her previous work, but there are a few surprises, too: the more textured “Despite That” and the title track, for instance, offer a glimpse of her willingness to explore new territory. (JR)

Rakim/Kurupt/Masta Killa
DPG Wu-Tang, Wu-Tang DPG – The Godbody LP
(Team League Entertainment)

With three Hip Hop legends and a guest list that reads like a Who’s Who of the genre, it feels like The Godbody LP should be a sure thing. Its timing is also poignant; thirty years after his murder, the record brings together the East Coast (Rakim, Masta Killa) and the West Coast (Kurupt) in line with Tupac’s unrealised One Nation vision. But while it’s great to hear Rakim in full flow, I had to stifle a laugh when he raised the question, in reference to himself, “Can he revolutionize Hip Hop again?” There is nothing remotely revolutionary about The Godbody LP, from the poorly judged AI-generated cover through to the conservative boom bap production and at times amateurish mixing (KRS-One’s verse on “Still Ill” sounds tinny and out of place). Of the three main protagonists, Rakim has clearly aged the best, as evidenced on the standout track, “A Different Kind.” In contrast, Kurupt—the youngest of the trio at 53—sounds jaded and short of ideas. Masta Killa has also evidently lost a step since his Wu-Tang prime. You should never judge a book (or a record) by its cover, but if three guys can’t be bothered to pose for a photo, it’s not such a stretch to assume they didn’t pour their hearts and souls into the music. The Godbody LP is a sad reminder that names don’t guarantee success. (DC)

Angela Autumn
Believer
(Gar Hole)

Every year, a singer-songwriter I didn’t know completely captivates me. In recent years, that honor has gone to artists such as Renée Reed and Sarah Morrison. This year, it’s Appalachian-born, Nashville-based Angela Autumn, whose playfully inventive indie-folk draws from well-worn traditions while sounding wholly her own. Autumn wears her idiosyncrasies quite comfortably, like on “Millionaire Money,” where she yearns for human connection in an increasingly disconnected world. She’s also very in touch with nature, and who can blame her? Take the bluesy, banjo-led “Mountain Stream,” where Autumn is perfectly in touch with her simple needs: “All I need’s a mountain stream.” Much of Believer dwells in the aftermath of heartbreak, but also in finding her personal truth, finding a measure of peace in the hauntingly beautiful “My Alchemy”: “I’m so tired of turning in my dues/for a guarantee of sunshine, I got the blues.” Once you let Autumn’s soft, comforting twang lead the way, you emerge from her journey feeling more grounded. (JR)

Godflesh
Decay
(Relapse)

I’m not a huge metal guy, but I’ve always been drawn to the music of Justin Broadrick. I like what he does with the guitar and his understanding of rhythm and ability to manipulate textures across a huge range of genres—from shoegaze to techno—is startling. Jesu’s Conqueror is my favourite Broadrick record, but I can’t say I’ve ever heard a bad one (I’ll excuse his recent Phoebe Bridgers collab). Decay is reportedly the last time we’ll hear Broadrick’s guttural screams—he’s retiring his metal vocals on medical advice—and it’s a continuation of the work Godflesh presented on 2023’s excellent Purge. It’s bleak and oppressive at times, but its propulsive rhythms also make for thrilling moments. If you like doom-laden industrial metal you certainly don’t need me to tell you how important Godflesh are to the scene. You probably don’t need me to tell you they’ve still it, either, but they absolutely have. (DC)

Gilla Band
Pugnello
(Rough Trade)

First things first: if you’re expecting Gilla Band to bombard your ears with an aural assault in Pugello, they absolutely deliver. Four albums in, the Irish noise rockers spent a decade refining their sound to this point. And despite my reservations with vocalist Dara Kiely, whose vocals serve as an absurd diversion, there is much to celebrate in the band’s crazed, industrial-driven rhythm section. But Kiely doesn’t seem particularly interested in furthering his craft, dulling their satisfying dissonance with incoherent tangents that rarely amount to much. More candid moments like “Agobia,” in which he opens up about his past issues with schizophrenia, hold far more staying power. You can feel the desperation in his words, and I wish he’d show more of that. But in a year when Protomartyr and Cola (Ought, by extension), two spiritually minded peers, delivered some of their most evocative material to date, Gilla Band remain set in their ways. (JR)