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.
Saint Etienne, The Night
Over 30 years after their debut, the Vaseline-lensed electro-pop trio still titillates without any consideration of boundaries as they continue their recent shift toward spectral-sounding gravitas.
Daft Punk, Discovery [Interstella 5555 Edition]
Reissued in honor of its complementary anime film’s 20th anniversary, the French house duo’s breakout LP feels like a time capsule for a brief period of pre-9/11 optimism.
The Coward Brothers, The Coward Brothers
Inspired by Christopher Guest’s recent radio play reviving Elvis Costello and T Bone Burnett’s 1985 fictional band, this playful debut album proves that this inside joke still has legs.
Lydia Pudzianowski
With the truth of each joke masquerading as parody, the unsettling part of Cameron’s signature humor this time around is that after the abject horror of the past couple of years, we’re able to see ourselves in it.
Nothing is obscured on this EP—it’s all on the table, demanding nothing of the listener except empathy.
There’s an effortlessly tight groove anchoring Electric Cowboy, which feels like more of a family affair than normal.
Light like a feather and warm like a blanket, the latest from the Chicago-based songwriter sees her taking care of our bodies as well as hers.
The album runs the gamut musically and lyrically, mirroring a day in the life of someone who’s grieving, when moods and feelings change in an instant.
The aptly titled abyss-gazing EP is about as pretty as a pandemic gets.
Where “Lightning Bolt” was solid but stagnant, “Gigaton” is (ironically) more electric, a living, breathing thing giving off sparks.
Though he spent his last two albums examining despicable male characters, this one spotlights and elevates women.
Dando has a keen ear and an encyclopedic knowledge of recorded music, and the selection of songs here spans decades and genres.
Much of the album sounds like echoes in an empty room, with percussion provided by hand claps and a drum machine.
There’s nary a bad vibe to found here, despite all the ragin’ and cagin’ promised by the angsty title.
R.E.M. is one the best bands that America has ever produced, and, appropriately, “At the BBC” is an embarrassment of riches.
“Pre Strike Sweep” is a fireball of an album, blistering from start to finish.
No matter who Spider Bags sort of sound like, they always sound like themselves.
“Almost” is the sound of women comparing notes in the spotlight to create something unusual, beautiful, and wholly relatable.
While the album feels appropriate for relaxed, sun-kissed porch listening, it is by no means lazy.
Liz Phair’s debut remains exactly as relatable, smart, and genuine in 2018 as it was in 1993.
Hinds created this record with an agenda—theirs, not yours.
Where her first album was an exploration, this one is a proclamation.
From stilt-walking to viral rap videos, your guess as to where the “GLOW” star will appear next is as good as ours.