THE ENDURING SPIRIT, TOMB MOLD
Can a death metal album be... strangely comforting? While absolutely heavy and thrashing, the soundscape that Toronto's Tomb Metal crafts on The Enduring Spirit can wash over you like a calming wave (if you allow it). Perhaps the key is singer/drummer Max Klebanoff's bellowed death metal vocals, mixed in a way that gives them a register akin to deep whispered screams — it's almost death metal ASMR. If that wasn't far out enough, the band clearly reveals in musical experimentation mixing elements of jazz, '70s prog rock and '00s math rock into the equation as guitarists Derrick Vella and Payson Power lead the album's melodic path with nimble shredding. Those who take the time to parse the growled lyrics will even find dashes of self-reflective kindness in Klebanoff's existential musings. What death metal band would dare include the line "let us be gentle when questioning ourselves" in a song ("Flesh as Armour")? Tomb Mold, that's who.
HADSEL, BEIRUT
While Beirut's Balkan-influenced indie folk is usually a group effort boasting an array of players (horns, guitars, percussion, etc.), frontman Zach Condon decided to take things in a one-man-band direction on Hadsel. And the new LP might be the most gorgeous one-man band album in existence. Sparked by his retreat to the Norwegian isle of Hadsel and his time playing the Hadsel Church's organ, Condon crafts a lushly layered dream of a tone album, playing everything from the aforementioned organ to trumpet, French horn, ukuleles, synths, drum machines, pump organs and accordion. Condon's swoon-inducing crooner voice carries the collection of blood-pressure-lowering tunes as they float through the air like melancholy lullabies adrift in the air of a foggy European beach in the winter.
JENNY FROM THEBES, THE MOUNTAIN GOATS
Jenny From Thebes is an album about sanctuary. The titular Jenny is a character who's floated in and out of the Mountain Goats' lore dating back to 2002's All Hail West Texas, but here singer-songwriter John Darnielle crafts a rock opera sequel to further expand her world. The album wrestles with Jenny's compassionate nature — she thrives when taking downtrodden, vulnerable outcasts into her home for care, but what lengths will one go to protect that sanctuary? What is violence when done in the name of safety? Whether rocking out or gently ruminating in the glow of multi-instrumentalist Matt Douglas' string and horn arrangements, Darnielle finds Jenny's emotional core while still allowing her character to remain mysterious — fierce, lovely, and as blurry as her figure speeding off into the West Texas sunset on her black and yellow Kawasaki motorcycle.
THE KING, ANJIMILE
The King is an album of biblical proportion. And not in the friendly, Christ New Testament way. This is Old Testament fire and brimstone shit. Anjimile taps into poetic rage built up by the smothering grief that comes with being Black and trans in America and unleashes it all in a Red Sea torrent of adversary-engulfing emotion. The production warps the singer-songwriter's folk base into unnerving wails of sound, seemingly delivered by the demonized ghosts of those who've suffered like Anjimile. The way he's able to interweave gut-wrenching lyricism about parental rejection of trans identity, white supremacy, King Belshazzar, substance abuse and savage police brutality into a beautifully ferocious waking nightmare of an album makes Anjimile worthy of the throne.
THE LAND IS INHOSPITABLE AND SO ARE WE, MITSKI
For the first time in her career, Mitski throttles things down on The Land is Inhospitable and So Are We. The grab-you-by-the-collar indie rock and synth pop of prior albums give way to much calmer, folk-twang-tinged, troubled orchestral dream pop. In place of her typical steely urgency, the singer-songwriter is content drifting through a sea of examinations of American contradictions. The Land is Inhospitable and So Are We lingers like an unobtrusive specter, willing to haunt your headspace, but only if you're prepared to take the time to sit with its decaying translucent vestige.
THE LAST NIGHT OF SADNESS, JENN CHAMPION
Few songwriters can make soul-achinging pains sound as accessible as Jenn Champion. Her band S served up a pantheon-level breakup album in the form of 2014's Cool Choices, and on The Last Night of Sadness, Champion turns her lyrical gaze to an even more brutal topic: addiction and overdoses. Over a dark synth pop soundscape, she shares excruciating lived-in details about coping with rehab, therapy and friends passing far too soon. Songs like "Jessica" balance graceful mercy for those suffering with their demons ("You called me split open / I still love you, but it hurts now") and unvarnished anger at the damage those demons cause ("Who ODs in a f—ing hospital? / Stupid, dead Jessica"). There are moments to find hope and love in the face of all the agony ("Love Song (Think About It)"), but at its core The Last Night of Sadness is a beautiful exercise in compassionate coping.
NEW BLUE SUN, ANDRÉ 3000
Does everyone and their mamma (including Ms. Jackson) wish that André 3000 was still rapping? Of course. One of the greatest MCs essentially shutting down Outkast and deciding to hang it up at the top of his game nearly two decades ago leaves a void in our musical consciousness. But on the other hand, there's something pure about his frustrating abandonment of the genre he mastered. He's stayed creative on his own terms: acting, making cartoons and now finally coming back with a new album... of ambient new age jazz flute. No... really. The sprawling 87-minute musical exploration is a free-flowing spiritual trip. It's easy to get lost in the space contours of the instrumental sounds. While it may not be the most elite-level jazz or what fans are clamoring to hear from him, at least André 3000 is still making interesting music.
ONE MORE TIME..., BLINK-182
Considering the group's jokey juvenile pop punk core, it's rather shocking that Blink-182 has somehow managed to age pretty gracefully. Guitarist/singer Tom DeLonge took a break from UFO research to rejoin the group for its new album One More Time... and the results far surpass the last record with the core trio (2011's immensely forgettable Neighborhoods). DeLonge, bassist/singer Mark Hoppus, and drummer Travis Barker are back in place, and the guys still have an undeniable knack for writing extremely catchy tunes about yearning for love ("Fell in Love," "Dance with Me"). But Blink-182's stealthy strength has always been how well the band can pull off the sad and somber songs (think: "Adam's Song" and "Stay Together for the Kids"). That ability shines through on One More Time... as the band wrestles with its own mortality and personal history (including Hoppus' cancer battle and Barker surviving a plane crash) on "One More Time" and "You Don't Know What You've Got." The guys might be much more aware of their collective mortality, but for now Blink-182 is still kicking.
SOME OF IT WAS TRUE, THE MENZINGERS
The cracks start to show as we age, not only in the lines in our faces but in the tiny fissures in our psyches. Pennsylvanian punks The Menzingers have long traded in nostalgic songwriting reflections that pair rose-colored Heartland rock hues with wailing alternative heartbreak, but Some of It Was True finds the band constantly delivering lyrical gut-punches. Frontman Greg Barnett's almost-crooning vocal delivery packs a wallop as he's unflinchingly earnest about wrestling with love and loneliness in their many forms. From unspoken unreciprocated loves ("Hope is a Dangerous Thing") to the fraying feeling of being an outsider in isolation ("There's No Place in This World for Me," "Nobody Stays," "Alone in Dublin") to sorting out issues with someone who's your whole world ("Ultraviolet"), the songwriting has an aching universality and is propelled by the rest of the band's raw but anthemic rock arrangements. The Menzingers' complete composure and lack of melodrama injected into the mix only make the melancholy of Some of It Was True ring out that much clearer.
SORRY I HAVEN'T CALLED, VAGABON
Maybe no artist has leveled up their swag more over the past half decade than Vagabon (aka Cameroonian-American singer-songwriter Laetitia Tamko). While she emerged with the terrific tender indie rock of her 2017 debut LP Infinite Worlds, Sorry I Haven't Called finds Vagabon awash in sashaying electro-pop. With production aid from Rostam, there's a resistance-free liquid flow to the tracks' blend of house and Afrobeat sounds. They pair seamlessly with Vagabon's hefty vocals that radiate a confidence even when lyrically exploring feeling off kilter after getting too high ("Can I Talk My Shit?"), people that make you feel like the worst version of yourself ("Do Your Worst"), or insecure and adrift self-evaluation ("Nothing to Lose"). ♦
ALSO DON'T MISS...
Avalanche - Jenny Owen Youngs
City Lights - Wimps
The Darker the Shadow the Brighter the Light - The Streets
Giant Elk - ME REX
Javelin - Sufjan Stevens
I Don’t Want You Anymore - Cherry Glazerr
PAWS - PAWS
Robed in Rareness - Shabazz Palaces
Think I’m Gonna Die - KC Rae
Tuff Luff - Mansions
