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.
Kneecap, Fenian
With bigger melodies and broader synth soundscapes, the rage-rave rap trio’s second LP takes an unexpected turn inward as they continue to take the politics of the world at large to task.
youbet, youbet
Penetratingly exact and proudly undefinable, Nick Llobet’s first album since expanding the project to a duo adds more definition to the sinewy, searching palette of their previous material.
Various artists, All These Things I Thought I Knew: A Compilation Tribute to the Late LD Beghtol
This tribute to the late songwriter and Magnetic Fields collaborator is something of a family affair, with close friends and clever familiars gathering to celebrate the artist’s dearly dour discography.
Kyle Lemmon
Katherine Paul finds a new sense of space within Swinomish traditional pow-wow music on her fourth LP as she explores themes of homecomings and reawakenings of mind and soul.
On his sixth album, the Saskatchewan-born songwriter continues to stub out his standby concepts of interpersonal trauma like used cigarettes.
The Toronto hardcore-punk ensemble’s sixth album is the sound of restraining a powerful creative behemoth that wants to rip through the walls at any minute.
The songwriter’s fourth album is quite a desert trek, visiting longtime landmarks of country, rock, honky-tonk melodrama, and ’70s psychedelics along the way.
Victoria Bergsman’s incomparable alto range is the central draw for this wintery five-song collection of Colin Blunstone covers pulling from The Zombies frontman’s first two solo albums.
This limited-release singles collection housed in a wooden packing crate showcases a celebrated musician who didn’t rest on his laurels after The Beatles came to a formalized end.
There’s certainly magic in some of the songs on Young’s 42nd album, but many of its moments are well-worn journeys through the past with a bit less punch and panache.
This electronics-heavy introduction to Chris Letissier’s new identity adds some transitory suaveness and sparkle to a well-established pop career.
Actors Banks Repeta and Jaylin Webb discuss James Gray’s semi-autobiographical film, their friendship on and offscreen, and more.
The exploratory minimalist songwriter’s third album is a cluster of nine nocturnal vapors released with the stark atmosphere of a folk-horror film.
This seventh LP grabs the French rockers’ usual bag of pop tricks and gives it a good shake, the 10 tracks breezing by with little room to stop and contemplate the contours of each one.
The UK group’s second LP snaps their post-punk mold into digestible moments of alt-rock, punk blues, and classic sophomore album experimentalism.
Along with his friend and collaborator Wilson, we look back on 20 years of Waits’ conjoined-twin albums Alice and Blood Money.
The eighth studio album from the alt-rock vets mostly sticks to its promise of bigger, bolder tracks, providing a handful of fluttering highs among their near-four-decade discography.
Doug Martsch discusses keeping it fresh after 30 years, his reflective ninth album When the Wind Forgets Your Name, and a quarantine love for The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild.
Joe Goddard discusses evolving the spectacle of their recorded output and refining their craft on the band’s eighth studio album.
This remixed odds and ends collection is longer, denser, more disorderly, and less refined than the composer’s solo effort from last year.
These colorful, multilayered songs flow from Noah Lennox and Pete Kember as they avoid the prickliness of other pandemic releases.
On his second album in less than four months, White leans into his softer side, oftentimes overshadowed by his blistering electric guitar solos.
The London trio’s third album is full of hallucinogenic scenes where jazz, prog, electronic, and punk pretzel around each other until it looks like one musical gordian knot.
