With 232 pages and an expanded 12″ by 12″ format, our biggest print issue yet celebrates the people, places, music, and art of our hometown, including cover features on David Lynch, Nipsey Hussle, Syd, and Phoebe Bridgers’ Saddest Factory Records, plus Brian Wilson, Cuco, Ty Segall, Lord Huron, Remi Wolf, The Doors, the art of RISK, Taz, Estevan Oriol, Kii Arens, and Edward Colver, and so much more.
Soccer Mommy, Evergreen
Sophie Allison’s fourth album digs deeper both poetically and personally as her dozy, conversational vocals and pop-grunge arrangements reach their clearest form.
Better Lovers, Highly Irresponsible
The breathless riffs, ferocious pace, and veteran sense of security that define this debut album from the metalcore supergroup feel like the work of a band desperate to escape their history.
Kevin Ayers, All This Crazy Gift of Time: The Recordings 1969-1973
Composed of the avant-garde songwriter’s first four solo records along with live recordings and other oddities, this collection is a wealth of weird ranging from pastoral freak-folk to circus noise.
Jon Pruett
Their music, which favors beats and atmosphere over songwriting, make them an ideal fit for the dub treatment.
While so much of Callahan’s past songwriting has felt like poetic exercise, this time autobiography shines through.
The record is kind of fascinating in its obsession with the “boogie”—both as a verb and as a musical genre.
Attempts to unpack the legacy of one of Chicago’s favorite sons could veer into a novel-length investigation—but an overview of what made him an essential voice is on Technicolor display here.
Pratt’s melodies hold nary a wasted chord or unwanted phrase.
Steve Gunn’s latest has more palpable emotion and literary bent than ever before.
Pearls Before Swine’s quasi-historical mystery album is hard to grasp, its songs coming in waves of breath and snippets of sound.
Decades after the mainstream’s punk pivot, Mascis is still the master.
Hair-raising, skin-crawlingly good stuff, if you’re into jammin’ on the one, passin’ the pipe, or just rocking back and forth in a violent trance.
“Wanderer” is a triumph of raw emotion, old direction, and new meaning.
“MITH” feels drawn to the elephant in our nation’s ugly-ass living room.
A 1-2-3-go punk-pop record in the Buzzcocks vein with a nice little bend in the tempo, as if you just got zapped by lightning.
A two-man mixtape of psych, guitar pop, soul power, and good times.
Rhys has an ideal voice for these space-age ballads and cosmic troubadour rambles.
Wooden Shjips are still chasing grace through repetition; they simply have a broader palette to work with this time.
A fuzzy, funky, cosmic party record.
What’s really on display here is Czukay’s maddening restlessness.
Belle and Sebastian are best now not at conjuring melancholy afternoons looking out the window, but at celebratory disco epics that get people dancing on the tables.
The schizophrenic energy of Ought’s early albums is harder to find here, but it’s not gone.
“Live at Lafayette’s Music Room” offers a window into one of the most acclaimed (and equal parts ignored) bands of the 1970s.