WOR$T GIRL IN AMERICA - Slayyyter

In trying to do some mid-year evaluation on the music I’ve missed, this is one appeared on numerous lists. Fully acknowledging I’m not the target audience for this, but wow, is it exciting to my old, white, straight, male ears. That said? It was excellent. Despite the oxymoron, this is intensely abrasive in the best possible way. My first thought was that it could probably a big deal in dance clubs, but I don’t think that’s what the artist is going for. Then, the near-immediate swerve into glitch pop reminded me of Sleigh Bells, which gave me a similar sense of excitement the first time I heard them. The genre bending only continued from there, settling broadly into electronic pop. I felt uncomfortably old listening to it, sure, but it was undeniably captivating. I will be listening to this one again.

Rumspringa - ear

Every year, it seems like a “weird” album grabs me, out of the blue and inexplicably. They are usually out of my comfort zone or defy genre classification altogether. The artist is unknown to me, and I generally don’t dig too deep into bios or previous releases. For better or worse, I mostly forget about the artist before too long or I never get around to their next output. It was Guerilla Toss a couple years ago, and Superorganism a few years before that. Anyway, Rumspringa by the group, ear, is that for me in 2026. As soon as I put on the first track, I let out a surprised little “whoa” and went on a brief journey from there. Immediately, I wished I was listening to it in another situation, like late at night with the lights low, but then immediately after that, I decided there wasn’t a context where this wouldn’t catch me. This is one of those which defies any genre. I would have said electronic at first, but there is a surprising amount of trip hop and acoustic guitar to push it in other directions. The single, which had been the only notes I’d heard beforehand, slid in seamlessly with the rest of the record. Fantastic, short, album, easily  consumable and repeatable, and one which I will revisit in December, shrug, and conclude it’s one of my highlights of the year, even if I can’t say for sure what it is.

A Wave That Will Never Break - WU LYF

Apparently, I missed out on the mythology of WU LYF. A band that unveils little information about themselves, they released one highly regarded album in 2011—perhaps the height of my music discovery phase when I could have found them—they apparently disappeared for a decade and a half before returning now with a new record. I didn’t know any of this until last week, but the story was intriguing enough for me to go digging. I have to say, I haven’t heard a song from this band yet that I haven’t liked, including this newest release. Comfortably in my favorites of the first half of the year, this album is incredibly well put-together. Being only seven tracks, it seems slight, but each song is put together so immaculately in a way that feels sprawling. I look forward to returning to it all year, especially in different seasons.

Their Satanic Majesties Request – The Rolling Stones

This has to be one of the most bizarre Stones records I’ve heard. I picked it up as a blind spot, knowing only one track and little else about the background. To be honest, I didn’t even know the Rolling Stones had a psychedelic “phase,” which is probably too wide a term considering it appears to have lasted for just this one album. It is understandable the desire to compete with the Beatles and Sgt. Pepper, but I would say it was not very effective. Obviously, they must have agreed since the follow-up began an unassailable run of albums—at least four, but possibly as many as eight?—all of which went back to the core sound rooted in blues. All of those, in fact, I prefer to this one. This was a fascinating experiment, and one I would actually like to return to at some point despite my misgivings.

Justified – Justin Timberlake

I’m of the opinion that 39 minutes is the perfect length for an album. Somehow, rap and pop records seem to be the biggest offenders of this rule. This album (like last week’s Pitchfork Sunday review, Madonna’s Erotica) is guilty of overstaying its welcome. Although it only has thirteen tracks, it’s still over an hour, which is too much. Especially if it’s not my preferred style of music.

I have at least one friend who swears by later Timberlake albums, but this one didn’t do a whole lot for me. While I would have been a little young for the whole boy band craze, Justin Timberlake was ubiquitous enough that I kept waiting to be hit with songs I of course recognized, but that only happened once, with “Rock Your Body.” I did have a moment of shock when I heard Clipse on one song, so it was less of a surprise to learn The Neptunes were heavily involved here. Otherwise, I heard talent, both in the production and vocalizing, but an overall sameness. It’s hard to say without the benefit of hindsight, but it felt like an early record from someone who goes on to be one of the biggest pop multimedia stars of the decade. And again, every song could have trimmed 30-45 seconds off the meandering outros. At some point, I’ll probably try a later album or two, for no other reason than to see if I agree with my friends.

Somersaults – deathcrash

Sometimes, the bands I know nothing about wind up being more exciting than those I highly anticipate. This is just a gem of a slow-core record, heavy but with a strong hint of lo-fi. The title track in particular sticks out as one I will be belting out on a nighttime drive at least once this year. I will need to spend more time with the lyrics, but I already feel the emotional pull after only a handful of listens. It’s already on my list to revisit for the year, which makes four albums in two months, already outpacing last year.

Cupid & Psyche 85 – Scritti Politti

The 80s are probably my least-versed decade in music, and I definitely made my share of uneducated comments about the common music styles way back in high school, but I’ve grown since then. I now have an appreciation for and understanding of the broader 80s pop scene, and this week’s listen, courtesy of Pitchfork’s weekly Sunday Review, fits squarely into that sentiment. I feel particularly indebted to the review for highlighting the other musical influences heard in this record. The reggae is immediately obvious, of course, but I had forgotten Scritti Politti was rooted in punk. I read Rip It Up and Start Again, but not since grad school. Going back and checking out some of their earlier punk tracks gave a greater context to this record. At times sounding like Prince (though I would never go that far!), this is a perfect example of highly-produced electro-pop that defined the decade. I likely would have been turned off by this in high school, and I would have been wrong.

COLD 2 THE TOUCH – Angel Du$t

After being slightly disappointed with the last Angel Du$t album (but loving those before that), I didn’t know what to expect here. I should have set my hopes somewhat high, though. “The Beat” was my first- or second-favorite song of 2025, easily one of my most played, and the experience of seeing it live landed perfectly. This album is tremendous. At 26 minutes, it’s their most compact release in ten years, but they pack in so much. The linchpin of the whole thing is near the midpoint, the song “DU$T” begins with an acoustic ballad before violently shifting into a breakdown eighty seconds into the song. This is a showcase of their immense range. Closing with the aforementioned “The Beat” was an unexpected choice, when I first read the track list, but it made sense in practice. It makes me think of walking out into the parking lot, among a dispersing crowd, and wandering back to my car after seeing a transcendent show. Two disparate thoughts, I wish the album continued on from there, but also, it’s perfect that it doesn’t.

Ignore the Ignorant - The Cribs

Another day, another Cribs album. This continues the upward trend for me of enjoyable listens, particularly from a distinctive era of 2000s British indie rock. I believe this might be the only album featuring Johnny Marr, and my goodness, it shows. In fact, I thought I picked up some Modest Mouse influence before I read that he was involved in this particular record. I really appreciate the way they slide in some longer songs amidst shorter ones, in a way that contributes to that art-y new wave atmosphere. There was a notable shift between the second and third record, and this fourth one builds on the previous, even if I didn’t get quite the same level of excitement out of it. Of course, I realize this is a disadvantageous way to go about listening to a band, doing a mostly passive cursory once-over through a complete discography, but it’s the way I do things. The immersion is making me eager to start over again and do some more closer listens, so there’s that.

Singin’ to an Empty Chair – Ratboys

Ratboys are from Chicago, but their sound should be able to confirm they are from the Midwest long before you know that detail. This band fits squarely into that alt-Americana of Big Thief and Waxahatchee, and not simply because all are fronted by female vocalists. I realize they are roughly contemporary with those other acts, but it is surprising they don’t get the same level of attention. This is a stellar follow up to their previous record, The Window, which felt like something was beginning to break through at the time. As a continuation, I hope this album elevates their progress even further. They are seemingly able to write simultaneously joyous pop pieces that feel breezy as well as longer epics that feel all-encompassing, and it changes from song to song. In fact, some of the more anthemic pieces are worth belting out. The music feels somehow both modern and timeless, but all songs are endlessly pleasant. Easily the first contender for my annual best of the year list.

Behind the Magnolia Curtain – Tav Falco’s Panther Burns

There are two types of Pitchfork Sunday Reviews: those that provide context for an already-known record and those which introduce a never-known one. In either case, there is a reason this has been part of my required weekly reading (and subsequent listening) for years now. This week’s review was an example of the latter, introducing a new-to-me album, a 1980s garage blues rock album reminiscent of rock and roll from thirty years prior. On my initial pass, I wasn’t a huge fan. The record was competent at making me consider classic rock and roll—Buddy Holly, Link Wray, Bill Haley—but ultimately, I would have rather listened to any of those artists instead. Musically, there were a few tracks which impressed me, but the vocals took me out of the experience, and I found myself wishing for more of the dirty, fuzzed out instrumentals. As an experiment in nostalgia, I found it interesting, but the novelty wore thin after some time. I fully admit, however, that I have basically no exposure to the source material of Memphis rockabilly referenced in the initial article, so I can't hold my own lack of nostalgia against the music. I will probably take songs from this record in doses, but I don’t see myself returning to the album as a whole in the near future.

Men’s Needs, Women’s Needs, Whatever – The Cribs

I’ve been meaning to check out this band knowing Jeff Rosenstock name-checked them in one of his best songs. Anything Jeff endorses is good enough for me. As I do with such things, I work through in chronological order, so this is the third record of theirs I’ve listened to this week. This approach is proving to work for me, because each album is growing on me, naturally as the band’s sound evolves. I got the sense this was the big release for this band, so I was eager to get to it. It is the first one that has made me want to dive back in for another listen. I have to say, it sounds very “of its era,” but I mean that as a compliment. Thinking about the other records coming from the UK in the mid-00s, this feels perfectly in place. I’m still not ready to claim fandom for the group, but I haven’t hit anything that’s made me want to quit either. Incidentally, this is the first album of theirs where I can really hear a sense of the Rosenstock sound coming through.

URGH – Mandy, Indiana

I’m still quite mystified by the naming conventions of this band. How does a group from the UK land on my home state as their calling card? I suppose it is pleasant to say aloud, but it is an otherwise unremarkable place. That said, I wish the music spoke to me more than the name did. This is not the first album of theirs I’ve listened to; listening to the weekly Stereogum recommendation is part of my weekly routine, and I suspect that’s where I picked up the last one too. I can do some electronic and some glitch and some weird, but taken as a whole, the style is just not for me. It is hard for me to put myself in the mindset where I would be craving it. Far and away, my favorite bit is the Billy Woods feature. And the album cover! Honestly, its chaos perfectly suits the music, and I can get behind that.