This story appears in FLOOD 13: The Tenth Anniversary Issue. You can purchase this deluxe, 252-page commemorative edition—a collectible, coffee-table-style volume in a 12" x 12" format—featuring Gorillaz, Magdalena Bay, Mac DeMarco, Lord Huron, Bootsy Collins, Wolf Alice, and much more here or at Barnes and Noble stores across the US.
Over the past decade, we’ve spent a lot of time telling readers about the music we love. As we reflect back in celebration of our tenth anniversary, we also wanted to know what albums some of our favorite artists have cherished most since FLOOD launched in 2015.
We reached out to a handful of artists we’ve championed over the years to share their favorite albums of the FLOOD decade. Naturally, their picks make for an eclectic and revealing list, ranging from widely revered masterpieces (Alabama Shakes’ Sound & Color, Tame Impala’s Currents) to underappreciated gems (Aldous Harding’s Designer, Jalen Ngonda’s Come Around and Love Me). You just might discover a new favorite—or be inspired to revisit an album you already hold close. — Randy Bookasta
My Morning Jacket (Jim James) on Alabama Shakes, Sound & Color (2015)
This is the sound of being inside of a forest right outside of the city. You can still hear cars and sirens in the background, and the bass of nightclubs; but we are next to a raging waterfall, sitting in the grass just watching the flowers grow, getting covered in the mist. This album encapsulates some of the best moments of this decade, and is right at home in the overall history of the greatest moments in recorded music, period. The music allows us to float above it all and see a beautiful patchwork quilt sewn from our world’s history with glimpses into our future, yet always entirely at home in the present. Brittany Howard’s vocals are raw, howling with intensity and rage, yet achingly gentle, loving, and filled with forgiveness.
photo by Wilson Lee
Amyl and the Sniffers (Amy Taylor) on Aldous Harding, Designer (2019)
I don’t like playing favorites, but this album—and Aldous in general—is underrated. Her lyrics are so cryptic, but that word sounds too mathematical for something so ethereal and pond-like. I hate to try to describe something poorly that sounds so good. Mysterious, calming, thoughtful, emotional, energetic, frustration is my interpretation—but yeah, beautiful and a great mystery in the best way. Good stuff.
photo by Wilson Lee
Blondshell (Sabrina Teitelbaum) on Mitski, Puberty 2 (2016)
I have fallen in love with these songs over and over again and leaned on them at different times. Mitski is a brilliant lyricist, but this album means so much to me because of the humanity in her voice. I think I felt ashamed of quite a bit of darkness I had experienced when this record came out—I was a senior in high school at the time. This felt like one of the first moments I realized how beautiful darkness could be and how it could be channeled into art so seamlessly. And then there’s the nostalgia of this being a coming-of-age record, which can’t be separated from my feelings toward it. You never need art as desperately as you do at 17. I just think she’s a genius and a generational songwriter.
photo by Louise Mason
Hot Chip (Alexis Taylor) on Matt Sweeney and Bonnie “Prince” Billy, Superwolves (2021)
Superwolves by Matt Sweeney and Bonnie “Prince” Billy is the record I have listened to the most and returned to and got deep listening pleasure from, that was made in recent years. It weirdly reminds me of “Joy in Repetition” by Prince on opener “Make Worry for Me” (Matt’s guitar solo could be a mirror image of Prince’s on said song), and it features some of Will’s best lyric writing (taking the perspective of a brothel owner who is “good to [her] girls,” for example), often hiding dark subject matter in some of the most beautiful melodies and finger-picked guitar parts Matt has come up with. Will often sings songs you need to check again and again to try to follow—“Did he just say that?” “What does that mean?” “Ah, that means something quite profound that I hadn’t thought before.” New observations and feelings, but completely relatable. Confusing and mesmerizing. This is rare.
They are a perfect match for each other, and clearly bring out parts of each other’s creativity in a way that elevates the whole listening experience to something very special that draws you in to listen again and again. I can’t get enough of the songs and production here, and it feels like a rare gem in an era of music-making being demoted to something far less important than it surely is. There’s hope yet.
Say She She on Jalen Ngonda, Come Around and Love Me (2023)
Say She She’s favorite record of the last decade has to be Come Around and Love Me by Daptone artist Jalen Ngonda, produced by our friends at Hive Mind Studios in Brooklyn—Vince Chiarito and Mike Buckley. It’s a perfectly crafted album—every note and texture intentional, yet never overworked. Jalen’s voice glides like butter, effortlessly weaving across scales and slipping into falsetto with a grace that feels both timeless and fresh. He crafts perfect love songs that pay homage to ’70s soul while remaining lyrically modern and deeply relevant.
This record also carries the mantle of Daptone’s legacy. After the losses of Sharon Jones and Charles Bradley, the label needed a voice that was magnetic, soulful, and timeless enough to capture the hearts of fans again. Jalen embodies that legacy with humility, warmth, and a presence that captivates on and off stage. We had the joy of touring alongside him, opening for Thee Sacred Souls, and discovered not just his artistry but his humanity. He’s as humble and kind as he is talented—truly an artist for the ages.
TOKiMONSTA on Solange, A Seat at the Table (2016)
I really appreciate the world Solange built. Every detail feels intentional, whether it’s the interludes, the arrangements, the atmosphere. I love that she balanced beauty with weight, weaving in commentary on identity, womanhood, and resilience. There’s a space that seems deeply personal, but also speaks to a collective experience. This album is vulnerable, powerful, and it has a social stance without ever losing a sense of grace. I also respect albums that peel away with new layers of meaning and sonics. It’s rare to find music that feels timeless while also capturing the urgency of its moment, but that’s exactly what she did.
photo by Piper Ferguson
Spoon (Britt Daniel) on Karen O & Danger Mouse, Lux Prima (2019)
It’s mysterious and reveals itself slowly via nine-minute multi-part epics, pop-leaning tracks, bizarre trips, deeply sad songs, explosive songs. Every note rings true. Five stars on my boat.
photo by Daniel Cavazos
Phantogram on Pusha T, It’s Almost Dry (2022) and Slowdive, Everything Is Alive (2023)
Between 2015 and 2025, two albums that have stayed in constant rotation for us are Pusha T’s It’s Almost Dry and Slowdive’s Everything Is Alive. Pusha’s album is the definition of no skips. The production is spot on, and his precision with words reminds us how powerful minimalism is when it’s done right. Slowdive has always been a huge influence for us—their use of shoegaze textures and their ability to blend emotion, atmosphere, and tension is brilliant. We were so happy to see them create another masterpiece after what felt like such a long break. Everything Is Alive somehow feels both nostalgic and brand new. Both albums prove that when you know exactly who you are sonically, the music just connects, which is something we’ve always tried to capture in our own music, too.
photo by Carianne Older
Lucy Dacus on Alabama Shakes, Sound & Color (2015)
Brittany Howard is one of our living legends. An amazing singer, songwriter, guitarist, and performer, there’s really nothing more you could ask from her. This record goes all sorts of places and can still surprise me on a hundredth listen. Many “How’d they do that?” moments when it comes to sounds.
photo by Ed Miles
OMD (Andy McCluskey) on Walt Disco, Unlearning (2022)
The crazy early creations of Scottish glam-punk heroes Walt Disco all on one record. “How Cool Are You?” is my favorite song of the last 10 years, right from the nagging “La-la-la-la” intro to the honky-tonk piano, choppy guitar, and tub-thumping drums to the cherry on the top acid lyrics. Perfection! Other stand out tracks are the chant-along “Cut Your Hair,” the subterranean soft disco bliss of “Be an Actor,” and the fabulous synthetic weirdness of “The Costume Change.” This album was a moment in time perfectly captured. The chameleon-like Walt Disco gang have already changed style since then—look out for their more muscular hypno-rock anthem third album soon.
photo by Wilson Lee
The Walkmen (Hamilton Leithauser) on Bob Dylan, Rough and Rowdy Ways (2020)
My runner up record is SZA’s SOS, but I have to hand it to Bob Dylan for creating my favorite record of the last 10 years with Rough and Rowdy Ways. I was absolutely shocked that someone who has done so much and has come so far was able to yet again create something so unexpected and fascinating. He’s at the top of his game with the lyrics (“Murder Most Foul,” “Key West,” “Black Rider”), and the playing, production, and overall sound are just fantastic all around. I’m sure credit for sound and production should be spread around here, but nonetheless it is a Bob Dylan record—and a great Bob Dylan record at that—which puts it in pretty great standing for me.
BLK ODYSSY on King Krule, The Ooz (2017)
I discovered this record in 2017. It came out at a super pivotal moment in my music discovery process. I had just begun branching out. It was one of the many records that showed me how putting raw emotion in music created something so much more meaningful. The honesty and vulnerability was liberating. It inspired me to do that same thing in my own way.
photo by Eleanor Petry
Indigo De Souza on Bon Iver, 22, A Million (2016)
I mean, this album just sort of broke everyone’s brain, I think. He paints a world that is so specific to him and so deeply human. For me, those songs and the way they bleed into one another, and the emotional weight they hold, just really hit me in a very personal way. The marriage between folk music and electronic embellishments is so special. Albums like 22, A Million truly give me hope that I am not alone in this world, and that there may be some purpose in my experience after all. Because if I can make anyone feel seen by my music the way that album sees me, then it’s worth it. All the pain and heartbreak and loss that life throws my way is worth something after all.
photo by Daniel Cavazos
Sunflower Bean (Julia Cumming) on Cate Le Bon, Crab Day (2016)
Even though it was already the streaming era, I bought this album on iTunes the moment it came out just to hear it right away. Crab Day is indescribable in the way only Cate Le Bon can be—you never know where a song is taking you (horns! sax!), but you’re always safe inside her world, her house, per se. “We Might Revolve” is thrilling, hectic, and fun. “I’m a Dirty Attic” is puzzling and yet deeply relatable; “Love is not love when it’s a coat hanger” is a line I’ll never forget. Cate’s poetry and individuality have always been a source of admiration for me, and Crab Day is a modern classic.
photo by Laura Moreau
Dean Wareham (Luna, Dean & Britta, Galaxie 500) on Purple Mountains, Purple Mountains (2019)
In 2017, David Berman came (or was dragged) to our show at the Wonder Ballroom in Portland, Oregon. He was in the middle of recording sessions for a new album, sessions which were later scrapped. Berman was about to turn 50, and told me, “No one makes a good album after 50; it can’t be done.” Two years later he released the magnificent Purple Mountains album—a rare record, in this age of streaming and playlists, where every song is indispensable. It doesn’t mean much when a songwriter is called a poet, but Berman had a foot in both worlds, inspired by Johnny Paycheck and Kenneth Koch in equal measure. His songs are built (and titled) like the best country songs, but elevated by turns of phrase like “ceaseless feasts of Schadenfreude.” David took his life a month after the album’s release, on the eve of a US tour. And suddenly the lyrics didn’t seem humorous at all: “Things have not been going well… I spent a decade playing chicken with oblivion.” And on he goes: “I’m barely hanging on. All my happiness is gone. The dead know what they’re doing when they leave this world behind.”
photo by Lloyd Galbraith & yuniVERSE
Purity Ring (Megan James) on Mitski, The Land Is Inhospitable and So Are We (2023)
This record was an instant classic for me. It feels like experimental punk, folk music, country, and even like I’m in a dive bar somewhere back in time that’s full of smoke and stars. It’s imminently timeless, loaded with unexpected surprises from the first song—or “jump scares,” as she would call them. Every time I listen to this record I learn something new about music. It’s a fascinating and gorgeous piece of work that carries emotions like a plastic bag floating down a mountain river. It holds a place in me that I’ll never let go.
photo by Elizabeth Miranda
Local Natives (Nik Ewing) on Floating Points & Pharoah Sanders feat. London Symphony Orchestra, Promises (2021)
In 2021 my band played a concert with Sylvan Esso at The Greek in Berkeley. My wife was due any day, so I drove myself to the concert and had a secret sign with our monitor engineer, that if he got the call, I’d run straight off stage to be in LA in hours and my band would figure a way to finish the show. Luckily none of those events transpired. But driving solo through the heart of California at night with zero light pollution, on the verge of becoming a father, was one of the handful of musical listening moments where I felt like I almost touched God. Promises deserves to be in its own category. Simply calling it just an album, or even mentioning the London Symphony Orchestra, might make this seem like a quasi-film score, which really sells short what a spiritual experience it is. The album is literally just two long melodies repeating while Pharaoh performs solos one can only write in their eighties.
Cults on MGMT, Little Dark Age (2018)
[We’re] tremendous fans of this album. Thinking about it now sparks memories of massive impressions upon first listen. The first time the huge bass comes in on “Little Dark Age,” laughing in disbelief at “She Works Out Too Much,” hearing the chorus of “When You Die” tell us to “Go fuck yourself” over breezy AM rock...incredible.
It can be difficult for us to relate to art that doesn’t feature elements of humor. Maybe it’s just our social bubble, but in real life it feels like even in the darkest times humor is never far away. It’s the way we process things. Humor, when used properly, can be like salt to a dish, amplifying the varying flavors around it. MGMT have always seemed to understand this, but they really let it fly on this one. Add in some genuine pathos, major hooks, and some of the most intricate production in rock music today and you’ve got a gift that keeps on giving.
Bob Moses on Tame Impala, Currents (2015)
Released the same year as our debut album, Days Gone By, Tame Impala’s Current became our personal soundtrack—capturing our shared experiences and the journey of the subsequent world tour we embarked on. Currents also marked a seismic shift in the music industry. Kevin Parker single-handedly created what we consider to be the most important indie record of the decade. Fusing rock with synths and electronic production, it defied the conventional formula. Without any attention paid to producing a stereotypical radio hit, it still took the world by storm. Its well-crafted, catchy songs were just impossible to ignore. It felt like all the rules had been broken, paving the way for acts like ours to reach audiences without relying on traditional methods. That album embodies the idea that anything is possible—it did back then, and it still does today.
photo by Joaquin Castillo
Tei Shi on Beach House, Depression Cherry (2015)
My hands-down favorite album of the last decade is—I’m gonna go back to the very beginning of the decade—Depression Cherry by Beach House. I loved it when it came out, and I love it as much or even more 10 years down the line. It’s one I regularly go back to and will continue to for my whole life, I think. It’s just a classic—equal parts vibe, immaculate writing, and performance, innovativeness… It’s also soundtracked various really meaningful periods of my life, and when I come back to it I feel the cycle and I feel growth. It’s a truly perfect record, in my opinion. The opening track “Levitation” feels like opening a book.
photo by Travys Owen
Cautious Clay on Kadhja Bonet, Childqueen (2018)
One of my favorite albums of the last decade is Kadhja Bonet’s Childqueen. I think the songwriting is beautiful, and the musical production is also very tasteful, and they use strings and an entire band very seamlessly. Each song flows into the next sort of in a way that you don’t even realize. This is a particular style that I like, but it isn’t necessarily my approach, so I just have a deep appreciation for it. The backgrounds also don’t really get in the way of the melody. It feels very reminiscent of Stereolab, but also embodies a very modern approach to songwriting.
photo by Bartek Szmigulski
Sports Team on Sorry, 925 (2020)
When we first started out and were playing London pubs every weekend, Sorry were the band on the scene who always seemed to be working so far beyond what anyone else was doing. 925 was their first album, and I think at first our reaction to it was just sadness. We were doing songs about motorways with “radio-ready choruses,” and they were coming out with this completely singular finished thing. Incredible songwriting. “Starstruck” is a perfect song.
photo by Miles Kalchik
Ratboys (Julia Steiner) on Hop Along, Bark Your Head Off, Dog (2018)
My very favorite artists are songwriters who have a unique perspective to share and a singular, extraordinary singing voice to deliver it home; Frances Quinlan is, for me, the one. Their voice is so distinctive and arresting—so utterly itself, a one-of-a-kind instrument—that I can’t help but pause to smile in appreciation every time I hear it. I’ve loved Hop Along for more than a decade, and when they released Bark Your Head Off, Dog in 2018, it felt like an instant classic, like something I’d been waiting for for years without realizing it. It’s been wonderful to revisit this record over the years, to confirm that its knotty, mysterious songs—buoyed by clever, catchy, and clear-eyed arrangements coalescing around Frances’ voice at the forefront—sound great as ever.
photo by Pamela De Freitas
Sedona on Mac DeMarco, This Old Dog (2017)
This record was the soundtrack to my first years in NYC. I remember wandering around at 18, having never been to the Big Apple, listening to it daily. For me, it really was moonlight on the river, a warm hug in the winter, a sunset while walking the bridge. These songs have calmed me in every storm, and their melodies have stayed fresh in my mind all these years later. Long live guitar music!
photo by
Yola on Oxlade, OFA (2024), Childish Gambino, Awaken, My Love! (2016)
I really can’t choose one album—it’s impossible for most musicians to get everything from one work. I guess this decade has been a big one for Afrobeats, so if I look at my data on streaming my favorite album of the last 10 years is OFA by Oxlade. The melodies are always immaculate from Oxlade. Every time he features or writes, it’s top-tier ideas. I’m obsessed!
That’s said, I also definitely went through a big part of this last decade listening to Awaken, My Love! by Childish Gambino, and that influenced my EP. Plus, when I saw it live at ACL after my show it might’ve been the best show I’ve seen this decade, easily! The homage to Parliament Funkadelic really spoke to a philosophy I have of paying homage to the classics, but make it fresh.
With that in mind, I have to mention one more record: I must say my hands-down favorite production of the decade, and some of my favorite writing, was on Jaguar II by Victoria Monét. The textures speak to me in the way a musical archivist studies music. The pen on this record is a masterclass in pop writing done with taste. I think Victoria and D’Mile did it on this one!
C.Y.M. (Chris Baio of Vampire Weekend and Mike Greene, a.k.a. Fort Romeau) on A Winged Victory for the Sullen, The Undivided Five (2019) and The Soft Pink Truth, Shall We Go on Sinning So That Grace May Increase? (2020)
A Winged Victory for the Sullen: This is quite possibly the most beautiful album I’ve ever listened to. It came out a few months before COVID, and its serene sound helped me get through those scary times. It’s often the last thing I listen to before going to sleep, and no matter what kind of day I’ve had, it brings me peace. I particularly love the epic 10-minute opener “Our Lord Debussy”—it goes to some divine places, and sets the stage for everything that follows it. Post-rock and ambient are two of my favorite genres, but this record is the first I’ve come across that perfectly combines those sounds with modern classical music. The Undivided Five will be in my listening rotation for the rest of my life. — Chris Baio
The Soft Pink Truth: The fifth album under this moniker from Drew Daniel, one half of influential experimental duo Matmos. The project was apparently born when Matthew Herbert suggested to Daniel that he would be unable to make a house music record. This album is tethered as loosely as possible to the concept of house music, however, invoking artists such as DJ Sprinkles and Kuniyuki Takahashi who also dance around house music’s ambient and experimental edges. This album exists more as a genre-less sound painting; electronic and organic voices blend and float untethered, rhythms are inferred to rather than insisted upon in a largely beat-less but always sublime master work. — Mike Greene
Hotline TNT (Will Anderson) on PinkPantheress, To Hell with It (2021)
I happen to think PinkPantheress is just the most creative new music that the last decade has given us. I’ve come to love all the projects she has released, but the debut mixtape will always remind me of the end of the pandemic lockdowns when we were starting to feel a few glimmers of hope during an otherwise bleak era. It felt so fresh and new and unique then, and it hasn’t lost a step for me in the years since.
photo by Jadeja McFarlane
FearDorian on Earl Sweatshirt, Some Rap Songs (2018)
I was in the middle of completing middle school when this record dropped, and it opened my eyes to styles of writing I had never heard before. It made me realize I wasn’t alone in a lot of the feelings I felt, and it re-contextualized many experiences I felt myself. It’s comforting to know you’re not alone in the things you may go through in life, and that record was really eye-opening for me in that regard. It inspired me to put what I felt for years into words in my own records.
photo by Eleanor Petry
Fat Dog (Morgan Wallace) on Nihiloxica, Nihiloxica (2017)
Joe [Love] showed me this album a while ago. I love it because it’s all about the rhythms. I like “Nilo Chug.” I can be quite bad at telling a drummer what to play if I’m directing a band, but I do often say “chug/chugging along.” I think this song is a perfect example of that sound: a powerful dirty chug forward. I like the production, too; each separate drum is given as much space as different instruments usually get. Because it’s so focused around the drums, it widens out what space they can take. You can really hear that in “Kadodi.” The whole thing is just great beats.
