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.
Photo by Michael Muller. Image design by Gene Bresler at Catch Light Digital. Cobver design by Jerome Curchod.
Phoebe Bridgers makeup: Jenna Nelson (using Smashbox Cosmetics)
Phoebe Bridgers hair: Lauren Palmer-Smith
MUNA hair/makeup: Caitlin Wronski
The Los Angeles Issue
Blawan, SickElixir
A dense, monolithic collection, the English DJ’s true speaker-blower of a second album sits somewhere between industrial techno, post-dubstep, and IDM.
Snõõper, Worldwide
The Nashville punks’ second album is less sonically gritty than previous projects, but has an added intensity largely stemming from an expanded studio band and sleeker production.
Neko Case, Neon Grey Midnight Green
Arriving after her longest gap between solo records, Case’s eighth LP is heavy with atmospheric details and new perspective; it wonders yet never wanders.
Sean Fennell
Dev Patel’s directorial debut lives up to the potential of its vague, vibey trailers while avoiding most of the pitfalls of its often-clunky genre.
The Seattle four-piece has never sounded so in-sync musically as they confront their past instincts to always go for the laugh.
From lyrics, to vocals, to collaborations, Katie Crutchfield continues to outdo herself in almost every facet of her alt-country compositions on her fully confident sixth album.
Chernobyl director Johan Renck’s new Netflix film strives for moody contemplation but succumbs to blackholes of logic.
There’s a comfort to Alynda Segarra’s eighth album which, with the help of a dream team of collaborators, feels like a deep exhale hardly present throughout their varied prior discography.
Noah Weinman’s instrumental reworking of his last LP is an exercise in creative constraint, making it both frustrating and understandable to find it not quite transcend its status as experimental oddity.
The UK-based songwriter’s latest album casts a shadow of danger, sadness, and self-loathing over the brash, queer sexiness of its 2019 predecessor.
Jake Johnson’s directorial debut may be a bold, entertaining spectacle, but it never quite coalesces into anything worth remembering.
Recorded in March of 2022 at Brooklyn Steel, this live album goes a long way in expressing both the charms and limitations of Will Toledo’s bedroom-pop project over a decade since its inception.
Sam Beam’s career-spanning live album serves as an antidote to passive engagement as it has a way of putting into focus just how much we’ve been overlooking the songwriter’s genius.
Jack Tatum discusses how past, present, and future intertwine on his pop-influenced fifth album under the moniker.
With the help of a killer team of collaborators, Ella Williams constructs something close to an entire universe within her third LP’s brief 34-minute runtime.
The post-punky four-piece’s third record and Sub Pop debut hurdles toward you at breakneck speed, clear mission in mind.
The third collection of solo recordings from Big Thief’s guitarist weaves the mystical and everyday while meticulously obscuring the reality of either.
A record of quiet contemplation and deceptive disorder, the virtuoso guitarist’s fourth solo album contains both all and none of what came before it.
El Kempner discusses bringing a punky, live-band energy to their latest album—which is ironically also their most intimate.
The alt-country songwriter discusses how the comfort of experience—and the discomfort of honesty—shaped his latest LP with his outfit The 400 Unit.
The further you dig into the Canadian songwriter’s newest collection of sunset-folk, the more you realize how hard it is to sound this casual—and how much of a joy it is to see an artist continue to come into their own.
Even when presented in one big, unwieldy mass of 54 songs, Jeff Mangum remains as beguiling as ever.
Finally, a film specifically for those of us who don’t regret our In the Aeroplane Over the Sea forearm tattoos.
