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.
Josh Hurst
Once again demonstrating her command of genre and lineage, the bluegrass songwriter’s turn toward pop is less a rejection of her roots than an expansion of her worldview.
The blues-rock duo sifts through wreckage in search of meaning and growth on their 13th album only to come up with answers that are every bit as pat and saccharine as the title suggests.
The Tennessean country-soul songwriter’s latest finds her sounding comfortable in her own skin, offering what may be the purest distillation yet of her strange charm and dogged positivity.
Explicitly pitched as a response to the unrest of early 2025, the former Hüsker Dü leader’s first album in five years continues to confidently summon instant-earworm hooks and visceral thrills.
This 75-minute opus pays tribute to Baldwin’s righteous witness, applying his moral and spiritual rigor to Black experience in contemporary America with big ideas and vivid emotions.
The prodigious jazz band leader shifts from kinetic energy to meditative tranquility as he puts down the sax on a solo release that’s somehow both calming and jarring.
The celebrated Philadelphia rapper’s debut full-length is made up of masterpieces in miniature—two- to three-minute songs intimate in their scope and spare in their production.
Exposure is the dominant mode on the Chicago-based songwriter’s latest, in which her language feels more carefully chiseled, more focused and impactful than ever before.
Beyond being wiser than her debut, this sophomore LP is also sharper, meaner, funnier, more assured, more pleasurable, and more persuasive that Rodrigo is operating on a plane of her own.
Coalescing disparate genres, generations, and value systems into a big-tent pop blockbuster, Batiste’s latest streamlines musical and ideological sophistication into an LP designed for mass appeal.
The jazz fusionist plays to his strengths as a sample-based thinker and collage artist while also showing how he can wrestle his micro-moments into long-form works.
The teen punks’ debut is a set of sturdily constructed songs that blur the line between bubblegum tunefulness, power pop crunch, and punk abandon.
Kacey’s latest feels like several types of divorce album spliced together, at once messy, conflicted, and purposeful.
The jazz collective’s fourth album is first and foremost a dance record, bruising, visceral, and thrilling in its physicality.
Bird reconnects with his Squirrel Nut Zippers associate Mathus for the most straightforwardly old-timey music he’s made since the late ’90s.
The latest from Sir Paul is warm, inviting, a little weird, persistently tuneful, endearingly merry.
“Moon Piano” creates an environment that emanates tranquility without ever overstepping its bounds.
“Rumors” may seem almost like a deliberate provocation of the country purists.
HAIM has always made their music sound effortless, but here they sound genuinely unencumbered.
On “Petals for Armor” Williams is in full blossom, telling her story without requiring our permission.
