20

Fred Thomas
Window in the Rhythm
(Polyvinyl)

On Fred Thomas‘ startling, career-peak new album Window in the Rhythm, he invites listeners to spend an hour contemplating their pasts while he does the same, and it is impossible not to oblige him, as Thomas takes us back to punk houses, lost friends, and relationships built on unsteady foundations. Chances are, if you are a fan of Thomas’ music, you have some similar experiences. This song cycle is not about coming to revelations but making peace with the passing of time, people, and situations, and most importantly, maintaining the awareness that those cycles will continue humming along and that we aren’t done.

Fred Thomas isn’t simply mining the past, looking for answers, or camping out there; he recognizes that today will also eventually become the past. We don’t always think about how we will continue this cycle until we reach the end, that the memories we hold now will sit aside (or be pushed out) by new ones. Spend a rainy fall afternoon with Window in the Rhythm, earbuds in, and a warm beverage in hand. You will not regret it. – Brian Stout

19

Lollise
I Hit the Water
(Switch Hit)

On multimodal artist Lollise’s full-length debut, she gives as much of herself as could possibly fit in 14 tracks. Born in Botswana and raised in New York, her palette is broad. She opens I Hit the Water with strong folk influences, nature sounds, and Setswana-language lyrics, then glides seamlessly into smooth electronics. From there, she takes us down a path with a dozen different turns, moving between English, Setswana, and Kalanga lyrics and highlife, kwaito, and EDM sounds, among others.

Each song is deeply personal in a different way; bright and catchy “eDube” goes out to her late father, “Semang Mang” is a gqom-adjacent meditation on confidence, and “Iron Woman” puts contemporary forms of media misogyny on blast. “Blue Skies” is a contemplation of humanity and nature, while the verses of “iKalanga” read like well-crafted proverbs. Throughout it all, Lollise is a warm, wondrous force of nature, her velvet voice carrying love and defiance with equal grace as the situation demands. I Hit the Water is packed to the brim, a compelling autobiography through which we get to know a brilliant artist. – Adriane Pontecorvo

18

Jlin
Akoma
(Planet Mu)

Jlin uses 21st-century technology to craft thunderously percussive, often jittery music that swats genres away like flies. That it can still influence furious, spontaneous street-level dance moves only allows that particular physical expression further recognition for the high art that it is. On Akoma, composers long recognized for their innovations, such as Glass, the Kronos Quartet, and Björk, are pulled into her orbit. As if she needed any of their recognition for some sort of compositional validity her music hasn’t already insisted on.

Jlin generates vivid visual music. She is constantly connected, consciously or not, with more rooted folk forms, from Ghanaian Ewe drumming and dance to Haitian funereal brass bands. Her results sound like none of that, but somewhere, underneath the layers of beats and snippets of melody, she tosses off like corn husks, dwells fossils, and bones with stories to tell us. – Bruce Miller

17

Being Dead
Eels
(Bayonet)

Whereas some bands never want to do the same thing from album to album, Being Dead never want to repeat themselves on any song. “Firefighters” shoots out of a cannon with a fuzzed-out guitar like Ty Segall. “Dragon II” is a gentle acoustic number that would fit on Guided By Voices‘ Bee Thousand. “Gazing at Footwear” explores the eerie reaches of shoegaze. “Big Bovine” begins with nervy krautrock energy until the skies open up into a cowpunk refrain (“Dancing under the Lonestar stars, which resurfaces two tracks later). This is just a tiny sampling of the frantic journey listeners are asked to embark upon when the needle drops.   

Being Dead’s EELS has received some early praise but with decidedly less fanfare than more established acts, hinting that the record could be an underground classic. In all likelihood, some lucky listeners will discover it in a few years, believing it to be nothing less than an underappreciated gem from a bygone era. – Patrick Gill

16

Tyler, the Creator
CHROMAKOPIA
(Columbia)

In 1998 (when Tyler the Creator was around seven), Jarvis Cocker wearily cautioned, “A man told me to beware of 33 / He said ‘It was not an easy time for me,’” on Pulp’s album This Is Hardcore, which is one of the defining musical statements about the complexities and horrors of middle age in the past 30 years. Now, in 2024, Tyler The Creator is 33, and like Cocker, Tyler the Creator has written some of the most messy, scathing, and, yes, wincingly accurate songs about longing, inadequacy, and insecurity. Now, Tyler the Creator has given us another unflinching document of adulthood.

After the back-to-back Grammy-winning artistic (and commercial) triumphs of Igor and Call Me If You Get Lost, it wasn’t a surprise that Tyler the Creator would flirt with a more chaotic and even confrontational effort. Chromakopia takes listeners even further into Tyler’s psyche as he considers the implications of bringing another life to this world. On “Hey Jane”, Tyler addresses his selfishness (“Ain’t in the space to raise no goddamn child”) and then pivots over to the point of view of Jane, who admits her fears of not having another chance to have a child to dealing with the fallout from her own family.

It’s not all an emotional squeegee, though, on Chromakopia. “Sticky” is a gloriously profane and empowering banger featuring a track-stealing performance by GloRilla. “Balloon” is equally exhilarating as it sets up Chromakopia’s strong finish. The final track, “I Hope You Find Your Way Home”, could almost be a bookend to Call Me If You Get Lost. Like all tremendous musical shapeshifters, Tyler the Creator has given us another persona to analyze, decipher, and see part of ourselves in. – Sean McCarthy

15

Johnny Blue Skies
Passage du Desire
(High Top Mountain)

Passage du Desir is a “debut album” from Johhny Blue Skies, a given nickname Sturgill Simpson employs in his refusal to sit pat. Never letting the listener guess the next move, the album moves from Parisian cafe music samples, odes about sirens and the hero’s journey, a playful “Gulf & Western” ode to mindfulness, and the sweeping string accompaniment of Glen Campbell’s heyday.

The heart of this album is broken yet generative. “Jupiter’s Fairie” is an epic narrative of loss, disconnection, and how pain can lead us too late to appreciate the beauty present in our fleeting connections. It rises and swells with strings and other-worldly guitar effects as we follow the protagonist outside himself into the orbit of other spatial masses beyond Earth’s atmosphere, where the magic of faeries bespeaks the wonder of human souls undefeated by mortality and heartbreak. It is mesmerizing, as is the album. – Rick Quinn

14

Beabadoobee
This Is How Tomorrow Moves
(Dirty Hit)

Beabadoobee‘s third record, This Is How Tomorrow Moves, is an astute collection of 2000s indie rock and folksy ballads that combines the influences of her first two LPs. Known for mining 2000s radio, Laus has also become a fashion icon who embodies aughts nostalgia.

The emotional intelligence of Beabadoobee’s music comes from an ability to pair sound and melody and then situate that combination in the landscape of an album. The lyrical thread of This Is How Tomorrow Moves, which discusses romantic trials, the bliss of new love, and self-consciousness, is a framing device for a story of redemption.

By displaying an ambivalence to negotiate with the world around her, Beabadoobee achieves timelessness. Such ambiguity is the point of art. It exists for its own sake: a testament to humanity itself, which, as a species, perceives meaning in the world, even though its ability to do so will one day expire.  – Matthew Dwyer

13

Les Amazones d’Afrique
Musow Danse
(Real World)

Seven years since their first international release, collective Les Amazones d’Afrique have surpassed the gimmicky label of supergroup and become something far finer. On Musow Dance, the lineup has shifted once again (the ensemble is comprised of a rotating cast of West African stars), and the energy is as vital as ever as the group continues to celebrate womanhood over some of their most engaging beats to date. Joining Malian cofounder Mamani Keïta here are Fafa Ruffino (Benin), Kandy Guira (Burkina Faso), Dobet Gnahoré (Côte d’Ivoire), and new addition Alvie Bitemo (Congo-Brazzaville), with Nneka (Nigeria) making brief cameos.

Each member brings their untouchable style to the table, belting, smoldering, floating, and doing it all with finesse. Jacknife Lee’s plugged-in production binds it all together, giving Les Amazones a beat-heavy canvas on which they can make maximum impact. Whether in solo pieces or as parts of an entire ensemble, each member shines on Musow Danse, pop divas in the best possible way. – Adriane Pontecorvo

12

The Cure
Songs of a Lost World
(Lost Music)

With its lush, romantic synth and ponderous beats, balladic piano, mournful, introspective lyrics, and epic guitars, Songs of a Lost World feels like returning to someplace very familiar after a very long absence. It feels like the Cure‘s grandest statement since 1989’s Disintegration. That album felt like it had its eyes on the horizon, though, questing and questioning from the end of the world, where the land meets the deep green sea. Songs of a Lost World burrows inward instead, fixating on memories, lost dreams, and the phantoms of roads not taken. 

At times, Songs of a Lost World reads like the lamentations of someone bleeding out; the sense of regret, the weight of the world, and the accumulation of years feels almost crushing; Robert Smith benefits from the wisdom of experience, appreciating what matters when all is said and done. In “And Nothing Is Forever”, he sings about being together at the end, taking comfort in connection at the edge of oblivion. He seems like he’s singing to someone he loves, but for many of us, the Cure is that connection. The world may be on fire. The sun may go dark and black. The seas may boil and rise. Yet here we still are, together, listening to the angels and whispering our dreams. At least we’re together in the end.  – J. Simpson

11

MJ Lenderman
Manning Fireworks
(Anti-)

MJ Lenderman extends his meteoric rise with his fourth record, Manning Fireworks. Seeing how much of the indie community fell in love with Boat Songs (2022), Lenderman brings his same irresistible humor and songcraft to the record with sophisticated guitar work that rivals anything he has put to tape. On this album, he focuses on hapless—if not pitiful—characters, like the himbo who only cares about his toys, the chaplain who flirts with the clergy nurse, and the dude who gets so inebriated he passes out in his cereal. It also sprinkles in classic rock and roll references for good measure. Through his reflections, Lenderman reminds listeners why people find so much joy in music, to the point of disregarding the outside world to play Guitar Hero into the wee hours of the morning. We’ve all been there, right? – Patrick Gill