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.
Billie Eilish, Hit Me Hard and Soft
The alt-pop songwriter’s intricate third full-length collaboration with her brother FINNEAS explores what it means to grow up in public and find one’s voice, both literally and figuratively.
Crumb, AMAMA
On their third LP, the Brooklyn-based quartet continues to experiment with rhythm as they find their niche within the neo-psych space.
Knocked Loose, You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To
After developing their confidence and honing their sound over the course of a decade, the Kentucky hardcore quintet pushes boundaries in a big way on their third full-length.
Ken Scrudato
Infinity. Dude.
It’s all here: the squiggly synth horns, the effected electric piano, the sultry sax breaks.
The history of music from Manchester, England, is littered with doom and, well, gloom.
Perhaps next time they’ll let it rip.
There’s a mission for musical cred here on her highly anticipated eighth album “Anti.”
Suede, surely, were the most unlikely of acts to reanimate the wanton, substance-addled serpents of their tender years.
The onetime Jam frontman—and now fashion designer—tells us about style and punk’s halcyon days.
It’s far too glib to refer to John Malkovich as a “Renaissance Man.”
What impresses and concerns is their self-titled debut album’s unapologetically dead-on referencing
The new collection of collaborative works (as the title is keen to note) from composers Ólafur Arnalds and Nils Frahm stands ideologically athwart all that mindless cacophony.
Our altars and sacrifices are ready.
Make no mistake, this is aural effrontery at its most relentless.
Ah, but now The Libertines’ arch wastrel is ostensibly “clean,” and he and Lib-mate Carl Barât are back fighting the good fight. Admittedly, it bears the scent of glory-grabbing.
Truly, Low are at their best when awash in intrigue and inexplicability, and the mystically titled “Ones and Sixes” offers plenty of aural equivocality.
What cannot be emphasized enough is the natural grace and elegance of her singing, especially in stark contrast to the insufferable over-modulating of so many nu-gen R&B vocalists.
Going east and west in modern-day Turkey.
Her fifth album, the confessionally titled “Abyss,” is a dark dive into a deep chasm of negation and dread.
The Bee Gees made disco; Moroder made dee-sko danse muziq.
A veritable zeitgeist of one, Jamie xx has managed to spin off from his soul-goth namesake band into an agent of perpetual buzz generation.
With rock and roll sputtering along like a Soviet Trabant with two punctured tires, electro-sonic architectrix Holly Herndon has a distinct herald-of-the-future vibe about her.