Kelela‘s second album is a transformative work of art that merges house and ambient, soul and dance, and resides within interzones – like the titular animal, a mediator between the material world and the realm of the spirits. It’s a vast canvas of cultural expressions, emotional tones, erotic exploration and musical brilliance.

At its best, the album strums out a stark moment, like a voice calling for help. ... Where a little bit of focus is lost is when Karijord becomes almost incantatory with Dessner’s words, repeating phrases with ambiguous meanings but not coming out the other end with any greater sense of purpose (“April”, “October” and “November” in particular).

Furling is a surprisingly dense record, its sonic pallet feeling deep and widescreen, even in its sparsest moments.

They fire back in 2023 with their most direct record for some time, a collection of hard rock staples mixed with their punk roots that the band uses to pay homage to the legends of their city’s glorious music scene, and do so perfectly.

Any who listen to this record will enjoy it, there’s no reason not to. However, with more run time than ideas, the album runs the risk of having both too much and not enough to make listeners keep coming back.

Heavy, Heavy never buckles. As a testament to the constant, psychological stresses of being an artist in the 2020s, it is bright, inventive, vulnerable, and rewarding. Pressure making diamonds and all that… maybe there’s something to it.

While opinions will certainly be divided on Let’s Start Here., it’s undeniable that a rapper hasn’t committed so impressively and effortlessly to a rock genre since Kid Cudi’s Nirvana-inspired Speeding Bullet to Heaven.

Gloria is a frequently satisfying yet uneven statement of self-love and confidence that heralds a new era, both musically and personally, for Sam who proves that it is just as equally an act of vulnerability to show your happiness, as it is your sadness.

Her work is pure naturality with all its contrasts and quirks, but also all of its beauty and intimacy. Her melodies, even at her most unusual, are inviting and engaging, making for a body of work with a disproportionally low entry barrier for how much it rewards attentive listening.

There’s no sense of wallowing in misery here. She makes no effort to hide the ugliness of what we can be but also draws attention to the light we hold within.

With a twisted approach to a tried sound, The C.I.A. expand on their declarations of their debut, enhancing every note, every string, every crash, and a lot of it comes from how well the three synchronize their unique sounds.

Gigi’s Recovery manages to portray a soul longing for healing, resisting its thanatonic urges, grappling with the reality of being born into a cold, loveless void, and somehow trying to accept being loveable. And it has the brevity to show us that, at the end of its 12 song cycle, the battle can be won, even if the war will never end.

It does not at all feel lazy, rather a conscious effort to do something new. Five Easy Hot Dogs is an incredibly addictive record that entices with its lightheartedness and almost weightlessness, which is aided by the absence of vocals and lyrics.

She soars above her previous albums My Name Is Safe in Your Mouth and Who the Power, delivering Internal Working Model just as she planned, with upped movement and rocking pulse, all while teaching us a constructive moral imperative in this new year.

Strays becomes a more consistently enjoyable experience as the album progresses. If there’s a sense in the album’s first four tracks that Price felt pressure to write an obvious radio hit, on the remainder of the album she tunes out outside pressures and luxuriates in the space she has carved out for herself; subverting sonic expectations, rewarding listener patience, and penning affecting character studies and vignettes.

Subtle complexity may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but that is yet another aspect of her music that is so impressive: unless paid close attention to, it will not appear to be all that complex. It will go down very smoothly regardless of the kind of lenses one views it through.

The title Beware of the Monkey may come across as a warning, but it’s a lively adventure destined to pull more in than repel. Here’s a man who loves the antique sounds of yesteryear, finding use for them even in the 2020s.

A subtle shift toward curated production and raw lyrical revelation. Which isn’t to say that her earlier records didn’t have those things, but they feel far more present and deliberate here. Running once more in complete sync with inflo, these songs are some of Simz’s most personal and most vitriolic, masked in measured rhythms and encased in the wrath of someone who’s too tired to give a fuck.

It may take a few years for SOS to ascend to the heights, but if 808s & Heartbreak was the breakup record of the 2000s and Blonde was the 2010s examination of loss and trauma, then SZA might have produced that emotional breaking point for the 2020s.

This is a record of soul searching, remembering stolen moments and quiet dreaming, chasing down stark past digressions and embryonic futures. A soothing palette cleanser in which all the personal lamentations buried deep within years of chasing the next adventure unravel and manifest naturally.

In the end Black Girl Magic accomplishes two very important goals of any record: reminding you Honey Dijon is an artist to watch, and being quite a fun listen.

Songs like “Smile” and “Let You Back In” might offer encouragement to her original fans, but as the softer edges of softCORE they very clearly represent the past. In the four years since The Voice, Fousheé has a new one and her breakout is complete.

Her storytelling eye is sharp and her ear is honed to bring the most out of it melodically and instrumentally (with a tipped hat to Jonathan Rado’s excellent production). ... She is a torch bearer for our times.

This is a batch of super simple songs, with super simple melodies, and super simple lyricism. At this point in their career it seems like there isn’t much else to expect from them.

Come Around is a brief but strong showing of how Carla dal Forno has honed her craft: by sticking to the DIY spirit and following her muse, wherever it may take her.

It’s impossible not to come away beaten and bruised by the undulating savagery that emits from a Show Me The Body record. However, from the same wringer, hope miraculously springs eternal. On Trouble The Water, the New York band burn more intensely than ever.

The band subvert the expectation by leaning heavier into their complexities to make Endure a triumph. It’s not so much a left turn as it is an evolution in sound, one that manages to cover more territory than their last album – and deliver their message in a way that is both more urgent and more approachable.

She has found a way to go beyond merely soothing; she nourishes her soul with each word uttered, building herself up into the titular Protector. This is the sound of her new day dawning, and it’s a wonder to behold.