Celebrate our tenth anniversary with the biggest issue we’ve ever made. FLOOD 13 is deluxe, 252-page commemorative edition—a collectible, coffee-table-style volume in a 12″ x 12″ format—packed with dynamic graphic design, stunning photography and artwork, and dozens of amazing artists representing the past, present, and future of FLOOD’s editorial spectrum, while also looking back at key moments and events in our history. Inside, you’ll find in-depth cover stories on Gorillaz and Magdalena Bay, plus interviews with Mac DeMarco, Lord Huron, Wolf Alice, Norman Reedus, The Zombies, Nation of Language, Bootsy Collins, Fred Armisen, Jazz Is Dead, Automatic, Rocket, and many more.
hemlocke springs, the apple tree under the sea
Naomi Udu’s debut album soundtracks her journey of self-discovery through her own version of heaven and hell in a glitch-pop take on Paradise Lost and Dante’s Inferno.
August Ponthier, Everywhere Isn’t Texas
The alt-country songwriter makes the most out of their first full album and its rush of ideas that bask in a sense of independence—both from a repressive upbringing and major-label backing.
Remember Sports, The Refrigerator
The Philly indie rockers take stock of everything on the shelves with a revitalized fifth LP that feels like a lifetime of growth reaching a critical mass.
A.D. Amorosi
This ghostly collaborative album with spoken-word artist Barratt finds the Roxy Music leader digging his own crates for old demos and warped melodies that went unused until now.
Revisiting their mean, lean follow-up to their ill-fated AOI trilogy, this anniversary package features winning never-before-heard oddities and bone-stripped instrumentals for the DJ elite.
Cleaned up with a new Dolby Atmos mix, Ralf Hütter and Florian Schneider’s first foray into pure electronics is still recondite and abstruse (and louder) without sounding superficial.
The German music innovator discusses his journey from playing in the original iteration of Kraftwerk to bringing live sounds to Los Angeles’ Intuition Festival this weekend at The Broad.
The Chicago-based soul artist finds the funk in digitized-disco on his third album, radiating a glow only known to those who live life on illuminated dance floors.
Recorded in remembrance of the victims of the Armenian genocide, the quartet’s work with the documentarian-composer is at turns gorgeous, brutal, and awe-stricken.
The Walkmen vocalist finds an exquisite balance of raspy, lounge-lizard crooning and angsty art-rocking on a solo album full of distressed lyricism and black humor.
The pop star’s latest album is chaotic by design, blending elements from across her career to craft something you can dance to, swoon with, and don black eyeshadow for.
Written in dedication to the smoldering spirits of Verdi and Puccini and the bleak words of Byron, the songwriter’s Requiem-Mass dirge doomily portrays death’s gutting solitude.
Remembering the trailblazing New York Dolls singer, who passed away Friday at the age of 75.
On her solo debut, the Mascott songwriter carries on the tradition of vow-busting break-up albums with lush and folky new components added to her band’s indie-pop sound.
Replacing sequenced mechanical instrumentation for blunter analog rhythms, Noah Lennox tunes his ears to the charts on his latest release, which is anything but sinister.
An organic procession from last year’s GRIP, the alt-R&B artist brings more questions of intimacy to six new tracks in addition to reworking three cuts from SEQUEL’s predecessor for maximum sensuality.
Filmmaker Eva Aridjis Fuentes tells us about tracking down the enigmatic “Goodbye Horses” singer for her new doc on the late songwriter’s “many lives.”
Celebrating 30 years of these stark live recordings with lo-fi pop covers from the likes of Current Joys, Casino Hearts, and Brad Stank, this comp overlooks most of the release’s key tracks.
The producer-director talks working with Questlove on the new Sly Lives! documentary, as well as starting production on his yet untitled directorial debut about the late J Dilla.
This 14-CD collection remastering the legendary bass-baritone vocalist, stentorian actor, and civil rights advocate’s work is a crucial cultural tome of both spiritual and earthly sensuality.
This hypnotic, 85-minute opus which Abel Tesfaye claims will be the final statement from his long-running moniker may be his biggest bonfire to his vanities—that is, until it flames out.
On his sprawling fourth solo release, the rapper, producer, and post-soul provocateur—along with his coterie of collaborators—achieves something both memorably melodic and weirdly wired.
Bolder, weirder, and less Pixies-like than his solo debut, this vast collection of contagious pop vibes and oddball character studies remains Black Francis’ finest musical moment on his own.
