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.
Taylor Haynes
A testament to unbridled creative freedom—a concept album such as this one could easily take a turn for the bizarre, yet The Lemon Twigs are able to keep it witty and lighthearted.
The Netflix special is already a comedy hit—but it has a dramatic turn.
A mind-bending, immersive work, providing a glimpse inside Melody Prochet’s labyrinthine imagination.
Even the simplest places—an abandoned Amtrak station or a city diner—are made significant and evocative.
Amongst the chaos of its busy cities, Japan has been quietly preserving and perpetuating a loyal jazz culture for decades. For an American, it makes visiting feel like going home.
“I’m Bad Now” presents itself as a self-examination, asking some existential questions and often leaving them unanswered.
On “The Thread That Keeps Us,” Calexico wrangle our collective fears into something borderless.
Aaron Maine’s latest as Porches seems to argue that truth is most often found alone.
For Baths, self-exploration—and at times self-deprecation—is packaged with a saccharine exterior.
“ken” contains an undeniable nostalgia infused with an anxiety and uncertainty that has come to characterize 2017.
On their sophomore effort, the British band exudes intention and confidence.
photo by Nicole Rivelli
Emily V. Gordon and Kumail Nanjiani’s film isn’t just about loving your partner.
On their sophomore effort, the London group seems to have grown into their trademark chaotic compositions—instead of shying away or going halfway, they fully embrace it and even add a little more flair.
As he entered his thirties, Chaz Bear found himself in the midst of an identity crisis.
At the center of the Toronto collective’s first album in seven years is a dedication to hopefulness and unity, even during a time when the world seems increasingly divided and unfriendly.
The best episodes of “Master of None”‘s second season aren’t the funniest, or the ones that leave you on the edge of your seat; they’re the ones that are brutally, undeniably, painstakingly real.
