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.
Morrissey, Make-Up Is a Lie
It isn’t always hard to trick ourselves into remembering Moz as he once was on this return-to-form solo LP as he matches mischievous observations with a winning brand of melancholy pop.
Bill Callahan, My Days of 58
Well-observed, a bit absurd, and wholly singular, this “hobo stew” permits each instrument and each musical idea to embrace Callahan’s discursive lyrical and structural style.
Flying Lotus, Big Mama
A hodgepodge of electronic textures, genres, and styles, the artist’s proper debut for his own Brainfeeder label feels improvisational despite its meticulous craftsmanship.
Margaret Farrell
The British singer-songwriter’s debut deals with mental health and coming to terms with the limits and manipulations of our wellness industry.
Grammy Nominations header
Although the pressure to be politically correct and proportionally progressive was strong, the live performances championed female talent and admiration.
The singer-songwriter and LA native talks about her new album “Quiet Signs” and surviving on an emotional battlefield.
Women are using music to detail exactly how they want it (NSFW). We’ve compiled twelve of the best examples.
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.
