FLOOD

Capturing the mesmeric vibe and stretched compositional prowess of The Beatles and George Martin circa 1966, this lavish heavy vinyl kit meets the new expectations set by the epic Get Back.

Re-released 21 years after its debut, the producer and composer’s power-pop turn is a decorous affair with a personal and personable backstory.

His first solo album of vocal-based song since 2005 is mostly oddly beautiful and vaguely over-obvious in the lyric department, the latter strange for an Eno effort.

With Criterion Collection’s new 4K HD digital restoration out now, we revisit the industrialist nightmare of the 21st-century noir horror film.

Confusing expectations again, Rundgren’s latest seems to outstretch its long arms to accommodate guests rather than interacting in a duet setting.

Producer Larry Klein welcomes an elastic jazz ensemble to manipulate the subtle majesty of Cohen’s music for a murderer’s row of vocalists on a varied, often less-than-obvious selection of tracks.

On this lost 1957 classic, the rarity of Mingus compositions for sextet fly to the fore in vividly colorful and aptly tuned dedication to friends and fellow masters.

The psychedelic R&B of the DC songwriter’s clattering new album rings out righteously in the name of refreshed contentment and love lived to its fullest.

The debut collaboration between the two experimentalists courses through one’s evolution of self-expression while pursuing the tenderness of community.

Languid, jamming, and psychedelic, the group’s second LP of 2022 is more elastic than its immediate predecessor, and more spacious than anything since Californification.

This multi-disc collection serves to remind us that Strummer was never looking to re-make The Clash, but rather to confound the expectations of his audience and expand his own horizons.

Removing the classicism, glam-goth density, and commitment to bleeding-heart Brit-punk of previous recordings leaves nothing behind on the songwriter’s third LP.

Keith Morris’ latest hardcore-punk outlet expands outward from their rough, fast exterior without losing their fury or favor in hardcore branding.

The Icelandic songwriter, producer, and vocalist’s first album in five years sees her pulling up her own roots, replanting them, and cajoling them to blossom colorfully anew.

Folksy, harmonic, and earnest in a way that Reed’s often-salacious songs could never be, this archival leap into memory lane is charming, scattered, sketchy, and even funny at times.

Alex Giannascoli’s latest has a density to its proceedings that his previous albums lack—all while maintaining the quirk and intimacy of the bedsit recording proposition of his project’s origin.

Brittney Parks finds more of her own soulful way with a richer sense of storytelling, focused songcraft, and studies of racial divides on her second LP.

This handsomely illustrated boxset is a commendable attempt at stuffing the story of the legendary producer and toaster into one collection.

The producer and vocalist’s fourth full-length is a haunting and deeply personal work without eschewing her usual radically manic aesthetics.

Upon the release of two archival collections—First of the Brooklyn Cowgirls and Pussycat—the ’50s-era figure walks us through the many fortunate turns her music career took.