FLOOD

On “Evil Genius,” Gucci’s raps about his past are piled with repetitive tropes and uncreative imagery.

Finding a balance between joy and self-seriousness, this is the quartet’s finest and most decadent album to date.

“Aviary” walks like a duck and talks like a duck, in album terms, anyway, but the more you pay attention, the less it fits in.

The music industry, like history, repeats itself, which is why Greta Van Fleet feels deceptively refreshing—at least to talk about.

The American rap group—or boy band, if you ask them—have found the right balance of vulnerability and abrasive freneticism.

“Sweetener” is a pop remedy for anxiety, while also explicitly detailing its crippling nature.

Ross from Friends’ debut indulges in humor and the minutiae of legacy, handling the details with care.

“Hive Mind” solidifies The Internet’s sound as a newly formed molecule, sharing skills and attributes like electrons in a covalent bond.

More playful than cannibalistic, Jenny Hollingworth and Rosa Walton want you to join them in the supermarket of their dreams.

Parquet Courts are practicing a kind of self-care: the self-care of rebellion, of questioning, of not taking things at face value.

Tinashe is confident and proud, but at the end of thirty-six minutes there doesn’t seem to be a clear understanding of who she is.

A hodgepodge of contemplations on love at its best and worst.

Over fortified vocal harmonies, punching rock drum beats, and growling guitars that ring like fire alarms, Dream Wife have conceived a pointed but fun debut.