Mitski
Puberty 2
[Dead Oceans]
Some artists, like some teenagers, painstakingly cultivate an aura of effortless cool. Mitski is not one of those artists, and if Puberty 2 is anything to go by, she probably wasn’t one of those teenagers either. Her latest album, which follows 2014’s Bury Me At Makeout Creek, reminds us that nobody’s too far-removed from their greasy, miserable, Rilo Kiley-loving roots, and that there’s plenty more uncertainty on the way. A must for anyone whose teenage kicks were more of the kicking-yourself variety. – Emily Bourke
Radiohead
A Moon Shaped Pool
[XL Recordings]
A new Paul Is Dead myth: Radiohead no longer exist, and A Moon Shaped Pool is music generated by a neural network that’s been fed the post-Pablo catalogue (and Jonny Greenwood film scores) and spat out something that’s unmistakably made of their constituent parts. That callous sonic assessment falls flat however when taking into account the memento mori Yorke scatters throughout – including True Love Waits, a heartbreaker old enough to drown its own sorrows. Reassuringly alive. – Ian Lamont
Jessy Lanza
Oh No
[Hyperdub]
The best magicians bewilder with the same trick twice. On Oh No, Jessy Lanza presents a slight variation on the prestidigitation of her debut Pull My Hair Back to preternatural effect. Rich in misdirection, Jeremy Greenspan’s co-production plays the lovely assistant’s role capably – as on the 10cc-haunted I Talk BB or the acid-laced title track – while Lanza saws R&B tropes in half before our unblinking eyes. Hey fucking presto. – Daniel Gray
James Blake
The Colour in Anything
[Polydor]
“I can’t believe that you don’t want to see me,” opines misery’s own vicar on this, his third album. Alas, JB, the problem is that we don’t want to hear you. It is as moot to wish for a return to the pre-verbal majesty of Blake’s juvenilia as it is to expect Bon Iver to stop shiting on about trees, but The Colour is yet another album whose murky essence is marred by words best left unsung. Stunning sonics, in the end, snatch beauty from the jaws of indulgence. – Daniel Gray
Car Seat Headrest
Teens of Denial
[Matador]
After an exciting compilation of his Bandcamp-based work, Will Toledo’s first collection of new material for Matador is, unfortunately, not the watershed moment many of us had hoped for. ToD scraps much of the rough gem quality present in Toledo’s best work in pursuit of festival ready choruses, the results sounding closer to American Pie OST than American Water. Toledo’s remarkable lyrical flare is still evident but this is, sadly, far from the magnum opus we were promised. – Danny Wilson
Star Parks
Don’t Dwell
[Paper Trail]
Austin’s Star Parks’ debut for our own Paper Trail Records boasts a bracing, maximalist take on psychedelic Americana awash in molasses-thick organ, buzzing guitars and with the occasional blast of brass for an extra pinch of bombast. Throughout, they flirt with the pupil-dilating head-expansion of early Mercury Rev but strip away their chaotic streak in favor of a laidback but thoughtful Texan swagger. Make room on your BBQ playlist, this thing is only going to sound better once the weather turns. – Danny Wilson
Chris Cohen
As if Apart
[Captured Tracks]
With his aversion to the limelight, Chris Cohen is much more concerned with losing himself in the studio than he is with any pursuit of stardom. This coy approach is manifest in the considered, unhurried nature of every tone on As if Apart. Few acts can deliver a set of songs so absorbing in mood while boasting such a wealth of complexity as to reward fine-tooth listening. Cohen’s is a gentle brand of genius, one that feels destined revered by audiophiles for generations to come. Danny Wilson
Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith
EARS
[Western Vinyl]
I know I’m guilty of doing that thing of comparing a female artist only to other female artists here, but EARS, to me, ties together strands of synth pioneer Suzanne Ciani and crazy vocal wonderland of Quarantine-era Laurel Halo. Here you can luxuriate in the endless, burbling synth arpeggios emanating from Smith’s modular Buchla set up, and then drift along on the multitracked vocal mantras and bucolic woodwind flourishes dubbed atop and easily lose track of an hour. Delicious. – Ian Lamont
