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.
Various artists, Passages: Artists in Solidarity with Immigrants, Refugees, and Asylum Seekers
These unheard tracks from Dirty Projectors, Daniel Lopatin, and more are hushed and raw, all crafted with the idea of evoking a sense of home to highlight those whose own are at risk.
HEALTH, Conflict DLC
The noise-rockers’ sixth LP is a full-on rush of nihilistic energy, a shattered disco ball serving as the perfect encapsulation of a world decimated by capitalistic greed at the expense of humanity.
Fucked Up, Year of the Goat
Made up of two nearly half-hour tracks, the hardcore experimentalists’ latest is artistically commendable and consistently intriguing, even if it tends to test the listener’s patience.
Sean Fennell
The passion and pain of the Italian filmmaker’s latest feature, Challengers, fits into a career-long obsession with these same themes.
Maya Bon and Ryan Albert’s second LP of lush indie-folk is warm and inviting as ever, though the album’s impressionistic storytelling tends to keep the listener at arm’s length.
A film about a violently fractured nation seems like an apt note for the ever-polarizing director to go out on.
Fusing absurdist parody with heartfelt confessional storytelling, Vera Drew’s litigation-defying trans coming-of-age story keeps its focus on the truth.
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.
