FLOOD

The vocalist-pianist took no prisoners at her short, sharp 1966 Newport Jazz Festival performance of legend, as can be heard on its first formal release.

The director of the new documentary Have You Got It Yet? and the iconic songwriter discuss the influence of Barrett’s abstract artistry.

The Who drummer Zak Starkey and Happy Mondays vocalist Shaun Ryder discuss bringing the psychedelia of Saturn’s outer rings to your doorstep with their new project.

The Brit-pop quartet play it shockingly and crankily tight, wrenchingly emotional, and wondrously melodic on their ninth studio album.

This collection of Richard’s major-label 45s presents an artist both hungry and haughtily proud, in full-possession of all that made him mighty and unique.

With Basquiat: King Pleasure extending its run in Los Angeles through October, we spoke with the late artist’s sister Jeanine Heriveaux and friend Kenny Scharf about his legacy.

Joining forces with producer Dave Fridmann doesn’t so much surprise as it does add another notch to the nu-jazz saxophonist’s Orion’s belt.

Taken as a conjoined pair of menacing, neo-metal LPs, the aesthetic value of these early-’70s works—newly re-released and sonically punched up—is a meal in and of itself.

Harvey’s first album in seven years is a loosely knotted dreamscape of clanging church bells, thundering drums, and busted-up guitar sounds smoothed over with folk-tronic gauziness.

This collaborative solo record finds the Buena Vista Social Club member at a happy crossroads with his longtime country music influences and something of a freer, silkier sound.

The Scissor Sisters vocalist’s sophomore solo album proves to be an unstoppable force specked with glitter flakes and stardust.

Revisiting the iconic synth-punk duo’s 1988 LP on the occasion of its recent deluxe reissue, Rev recalls how nobody did it like Suicide—except for Bruce Springsteen, briefly.

With his fourth studio album, Archy Marshall painstakingly sculpts lyrics to sound like hastily made emotions—but they mostly come off as refrigerator-magnet wordiness.

Rather than attempting the corny “duets album” trend, this cosmopolitan take on earthen classics is an aptly communal sharing of sociopolitics and human interest rhetoric.

The band pushes through the immediacy of life’s end like they were kicking in a green room door on this statement of mourning, which rages with no time for subtlety.

The soundtrack to Alma Har’el’s 2021 concert film is a magnificent, elastic set of renditions of Dylan’s most beloved (and least played) mini-epics of ache, revenge, and recall.

With breezy R&B melodies and roomy Afrobeat arrangements to guide her, Monáe turns from robotic sci-fi to the earthly influence of Fela Kuti for her latest loll through Wondaland.

Even when highly orchestrated with the help of Burt Bacharach and Hal David, Warwick’s early singles have a certain raw quality to them allowing each song a subtle edginess.

The Goldfrapp vocalist is bound for the dancefloor on her debut solo outing.

On their ninth album, the Malian outfit moves further through their exploratory desert-blues aesthetic by interlocking their groove with the sounds of American country music.