2021 marks 10 years since British post-punk band IDLES released their first project, which was a self-titled EP in 2011. For the first several years of their existence, the band remained in relative obscurity, releasing EPs every few years up until their breakout debut album 

in 2017. IDLES’ ascension to mainstream punk success makes sense if you consider the time at which they gained so much popularity – early 2017 marked the inauguration of American president Donald Trump and the first year in office for then-Prime Minister Theresa May. The band preaching feminism, working class politics, and loudly declaring “The best way to scare a Tory is to read or get rich” felt desperately needed by many, and seemed to dig into the ancient punk ethos while adding a modern flair to their sound.


but signaled a slight departure from their music’s grittier punk atmosphere. While 

was a diverse array of anthems that succeeded in motivating their audience, its successor 

 was one of the more disappointing albums of 2020. Their social liberalism felt preachy rather than empowering, and they felt far removed from the pissed-off brand of rock that built their following.


is not necessarily as significant as the band’s first two albums, but definitely heals some of the ills from 

The band seems more focused than ever on developing a new sound, bringing in hip hop producer Kenny Beats and shifting towards a darker, more industrial atmosphere than their past albums. No song better exemplifies this than “Car Crash,” a muddled instrumental that complement’s lead vocalist Joe Talbot’s quasi-rapping for a couple verses before the song devolves into an utterly satisfying noisy whirlwind at its conclusion.The intro to the album “MTT 420 RR” also sounds unlike anything the band has done previously; though IDLES have recorded a handful of slow, bleak songs in the past, the first song on 

is unusually unnerving, largely in part to Talbot’s lyrics describing a near-fatal motorcycle accident: “The swell of heaven on my dashboard / I can see my spinal cord rip high / hey, hey, hey, it’s raining glass like a fever storm.”


Elsewhere, the band leans into the hardcore sound that launched their popularity back in 2017. “The Wheel” is perhaps the grimiest punk song in the band’s catalogue since 

with a pulsing bassline slicing through the heart of the song while Talbot cynically describes his mother falling deeper into alcoholism. Later on, they even attempt a classic 30-second hardcore interlude titled “Wizz.” Given that Talbot and the band are so naturally gifted at vintage punk styles, it’s refreshing to see them go back to their origins throughout 

Lead single “The Beachland Ballroom” serves as a fitting centerpiece for the album; its slow-building, swelling instrumental with Talbot’s snarky bellowing – “If you see me on my knees, please do not think that I pray” – is motivational and slightly extravagant, as IDLES’ best songs often are. Another classic IDLES tune can be found with the final song on the album, aptly titled “The End.” Slightly nihilistic, but exuding hope for better days, the track builds up to a chorus based on a Trotsky quote days before his impending assassination: “In spite of it all, life is beautiful / In spite of it all, life is beautiful.”


For all the album’s highlights, they struggle to sustain their fresh ideas throughout an entire album, with the quality deteriorating on the album’s latter half, including Talbot falling into a common trap throughout the last few years where he lazily bellows a single word repeatedly in place of a chorus on “Meds.” That being said, many of the issues from the group’s last album have been reduced or resolved, making their latest an undeniable step in the right direction. While IDLES’ window as the youthful, activist punk rock band may have closed a couple years ago, they prove on 

that the band’s musical innovation and Talbot’s poetic lyricism ensure that IDLES is still one of the most important names in modern punk music.


"CRAWLER" is a return to form for IDLES

Snail Mail is the musical project of singer-songwriter and guitarist Lindsey Jordan, who gained notoriety in 2018 upon the release of her debut album 

released a week before Jordan’s nineteenth birthday. 

became a favorite among younger indie pop fans due to swelling instrumentals and passionate vocal performances on fan favorites like “Pristine” and “Heat Wave.” The ensuing three years allowed Jordan to tour on the back of 

’ssuccess, as well as record the ten songs that make up her sophomore project, 

doesn’t make much of an attempt to reinvent the indie pop genre; many tracks focus heavily on catchy hooks and contrast quietly strained verses with dramatic choruses, a formula that has been perfected for decades across the indie scene. However, that’s not to say there’s no evolution to Jordan’s sound on her new record. 

leans more heavily on pop sounds, substituting the guitar-based atmosphere of 

with more synths and softer vocals. The production works well with Jordan’s lyrics, which are often wistful ballads depicting strained relationships.


Take the lead single and title track “Valentine,” for example, where Jordan pleads for a partner to return despite not receiving any interest from them. Structurally, the song is fairly ordinary, with an eerie synth being just about the only instrument backing Jordan’s opening verses, only for the full band to abruptly enter during the chorus, where Jordan asks “Why’d you want to erase me, darling valentine?” Throughout the album, Jordan brings songs to life with her lyrics and performances, keeping the 30-minute album riveting and fresh. On “Madonna,” another pleasant-sounding pop single, Jordan writes “I consecrate my life to kneeling at your altar / My second sin of seven being wanting more / Could that have been the smell of roses, backseat lover?” Though the lyrical content of the record, which could be vaguely described as “heartbreak,” is nothing revolutionary, Jordan’s self-deprecating vulnerability comes across as earnest and relatable.


The track “Forever (Sailing)” is perhaps the most sonically unique song on 

where Jordan’s distant chorus combined with the slow, synth-heavy instrumental, creates a dreamlike atmosphere as she repeatedly croons, “You and I, like a ship forever sailing.” Placed as the fifth song out of ten within the tracklist, this diversion towards dream pop is a welcome centerpiece. The record culminates in fitting fashion with the final two tracks, “Automate” and “Mia,” with the former describing a drunk Jordan bitterly reflecting on her ex’s new partner and the latter being a minimal, bleak ballad longing for her lover in the days following a breakup.


Though each of the 10 tracks focuses roughly on the same topic, the album is only 30 minutes long, which prevents the listener from becoming fatigued by the subject matter. 

is also one of the most consistent pop records of the year, with a couple standout tracks but not a single dud. Jordan’s presence as a singer, highlighted by her cynical lyrics and versatile vocal performances, are more than enough to make her second album as Snail Mail even more intriguing than her first.

Snail Mail’s sophomore album is even more lush than its predecessor

Polydor / Interscope · October 22, 2021


By this point, Lana Del Rey has joined the ranks of the most prolific and unforgettable artists of the past decade, thanks to her consistency in releasing acclaimed, stylistically diverse albums every year or two. In the past year alone, she’s added the seventh and eighth entries to her catalogue, 

in October. Listening to the two albums, it’s easy to see how they were recorded within close proximity of one another; on both, she seems to have progressed past the vibrant instrumentals and lyrical themes of 

in favor of a softer, more personal sound.

Lana’s personality often works to the benefit of 

Her songwriting has always been her top strength, and the instrumental environment throughout the album, full of piano ballads and minimal instrumental arrangements behind her voice, gives her the space to offer up songs depicting her personal experiences in a compelling fashion. Many of the songs focus on past relationships, and lines like “You act like fucking Mr. Brightside when you’re with all your friends, but I know what you’re like when the party ends” from the track “Thunder” show that Lana is sharp and relatable as ever.

might seem less adventurous than her past albums due to the subtlety of the instrumentation behind her, Lana frequently experiments with the way she uses her voice as its own instrument. On tracks like “Arcadia,” she takes her voice a couple registers higher than listeners are accustomed to, creating an unusually ethereal effect. Elsewhere, on “Black Bathing Suit” and “Living Legend,” layering and distortion to her vocals bring about satisfying conclusions and keep the album from sounding like a traditionally stale piano rock album. Perhaps the best example of the great vocal performances throughout the record is the song “Dealer,” where Lana passionately addresses a past partner, adopting a shout-singing approach that brings a potent level of emotion to the track, complemented by the smooth guest appearance from Miles Kane.

Though Lana’s vocals and storytelling are interesting enough to make this album a success, there’s no doubt that it’s less instrumentally interesting than many of the classics in her discography. Listeners will occasionally stumble across a track like “Nectar of the Gods,” a pleasant-sounding song that fails to bring any ideas to the table that Lana hasn’t already explored at length throughout her career. Of course, there’s also the matter of “Interlude – The Trio,” a minute-long Lana-produced trap beat that … goes hard? Lana’s Tay Keith impression sounds genuinely decent, although it feels a bit jarring sandwiched between “Arcadia” and “Black Bathing Suit.” It doesn’t really fit alongside the rest of the tracks, but it reinforces the idea that Lana is at a stage of her career where she is committed to making the music that she wants to, rather than trying to perfect a new variation of her original chamber pop sound.

Lana Del Rey doesn’t have much else to prove at this point, but her natural artistic vision still provides a great listening experience. On the whole, 

 remains focused enough to do a better job of painting somber, reflective images than 

, despite being released only seven months later.


Lana Del Rey’s second album of 2021 is a step up in maturity and personality

Injury Reserve was never a typical rap group. Founding member Stepa J. Groggs was 28 when the group released their debut mixtape 

in 2015, having met fellow emcee Ritchie Wit a T at a Footlocker in middle school. The group proudly represents Phoenix, Arizona, typically not a nationally recognized hub of hip hop talent. Their breakthrough came in 2019 when they released their self-titled debut album with the backing of Loma Vista records, following two highly acclaimed independent mixtapes which established the trio’s reputation for eccentric, humorous lyrics and bombastic, Kanye-esque beats from producer Parker Corey.


In June 2020, Groggs passed away at the age of 32, leaving a young daughter behind, the group announced on social media. It was a tragedy for fans of the group’s music but especially Groggs’ friends and family, including his two bandmates. Ritchie and Corey promoted a GoFundMe for Groggs’ family in the immediate aftermath, and remained mostly silent for the remainder of 2020, leaving the question of any future Injury Reserve music unanswered.


In August 2021, the group released a statement announcing a lead single for an album they had begun while touring two years prior. The accompanying track “Knees” introduced an entirely new sound for a group which had built their name through a mix of hardcore and conscious rap music; “Knees” is a highly emotive track built around a pulsing sample from British post-rock band Black Midi. Though Groggs and Ritchie have always been stellar rappers, “Knees” is more of an experimental rock song than anything resembling hip hop. A strained chorus by Ritchie – “My knees hurt when I grow, and that’s a tough pill to swallow because I’m not getting taller” – surrounds slurred verses from both vocalists. Groggs comes in halfway through the five-minute track and adds on to the forlorn theme of getting older by touching on his battle with alcoholism, a frequent motif throughout his career with Injury Reserve: “Okay, this last one is my last one / Shit, probably said that about the last one / Probably gonna say that about the next two.”


arrived midway through September, and within the first couple tracks, it’s evident that “Knees” was only a glimpse of Injury Reserve’s sonic direction. The album certainly draws on elements of experimental rap and glitch hop of years past; fans of instrumental hip hop artists like Flying Lotus and Slauson Malone may not be taken aback by the abrasive left turn Parker Corey takes on the album, but even so, the unconventional song structures, digitally altered vocals, and heavy use of electronic and post-rock samples create a blend of sounds that feels almost entirely groundbreaking. The opening track “Outside” is a six-minute display of Corey’s skills as a producer, flipping an obscure sample from ’70s Venezuelan electronic artist Angel Rada into a whirling instrumental where Ritchie briefly provides perhaps his most conventional “rapping” on the album, though his flow still feels more like a spoken word performance than a rap verse.


Following “Outside” is “Superman That,” the second and final promotional single released a week prior to the album’s release. Sampling “Athens, France” from Black Country, New Road’sdebut album, the track is perhaps the glitchiest, most untamed beat on an album full of them. Songs such as this, as well as darker cuts like “Ground Zero” and “Smoke Don’t Clear” give the album a distinctly unsettling atmosphere, almost as if the world is crumbling around the listener and Injury Reserve is providing the perfect soundtrack.


Given the circumstances surrounding the album, it’s understandable why this album is Injury Reserve’s most nightmarish to date, though that doesn’t detract from the project’s obvious beauty. Groggs appears sparingly across the 11 tracks, including his somber contribution to “Knees” and an utterly ferocious appearance on “Footwork in a Forest Fire,” perhaps the most apocalyptic song on the album, which lyrically illustrates the angst involved in navigating contemporary social unrest: “Are you down to ride? Yeah, we down to ride / I said, we down to riot / Sorry mama, I try my best to no longer be polite” he raps over a rapid, percussive beat by Corey. Other songs handled exclusively by Ritchie and Corey are clear homages to Groggs; “Top Picks for You” is a crushing description of someone, presumably Groggs’ child, using Groggs’ old streaming accounts and watching the same content their father would have: “Grab the remote, pops up something you would’ve watched, I’m like ‘Classic’ / This some shit I woulda seen you watch and then just laughed at / Your patterns are still in place and your algorithm is still in action / Just working so that you can just jump right back in / But you ain’t jumping back.”


is heartbreaking, beautiful, and in some ways, a triumph as Injury Reserve takes their art to a new high in spite of immense suffering. Though Ritchie and Parker may have more work to do together to develop their new sound, this could be a gorgeous, albeit premature end to Injury Reserve’s catalogue. For now, all three band members’ social media bios remain the same as they have for the past several years: “1/3 of Injury Reserve.”


"By the Time I Get to Phoenix" is Injury Reserve’s cathartic victory lap

Today, boygenius, an indie collective composed of Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers, and Lucy Dacus, is one of the most recognizable bands on the scene. In October 2015, then-20-year-old Baker, a relatively unknown singer writing songs primarily in her Middle Tennessee State dorm room, commenced this new wave of indie music with the release of her debut album 

. The album accrued enough interest for Baker to headline her own tours, which included Bridgers and Dacus as opening acts, and the rest is history.

in 2017, which was met with critical and commercial success. By the time the boygenius album was released the following year, the trio of female singer-songwriters had accrued a cult following, but Baker’s third album wasn’t released to the public until Feb. 26, nearly three and a half years after 

Baker, now 25, displays her maturity on the new record more than ever, particularly instrumentally. While her first album was a bare-bones guitar-and-vocals album, her latest work boasts a full band of instrumentation, allowing her to sing over much lusher sounds than ever before. The subject matter of the album remains similar to her past work – substance abuse, self-deprecation, and relationship struggles – but Baker’s lyrics remain convincing enough to make her latest album feel like reopening an old wound rather than rehashing stale ideas.

The opening track, “Hardline,” includes one of the best instances of Baker’s emotive writing, kicking off the album with a blunt account of struggles with drugs: “Blacked out on a weekday, still something I’m trying to avoid” are the first words sung on the record. Bolstered by one of the most powerful instrumentals on the album and picking up steam towards the end of the song in classic fashion for Baker’s songs, she concludes the alcoholic opener bleakly by calling back to the opening lyrics “Say it’s not so cut and dry / oh, it isn’t black and white / what if it’s all black baby, all the time?”

The album’s lead single, “Faith Healer,” packs a lot of punch for a song with only about a dozen lines total. The title alludes not only to Baker’s experience growing up in a religious family in Tennessee, but touches on vices which provide short-term happiness and self-esteem to those in need. The song simultaneously refers to the religious figure in the song as a “snake oil dealer,” and in the subsequent line, she concedes “I’ll believe you if you make me feel something,” perhaps again noting that the drugs in her life are the only things that have revealed healing properties of any sort.

It could be argued that the album lacks the personality which made her past albums so compelling – while there are individual lines and elements of the faintly layered instrumentals to identify as excellent, Baker remains strictly adherent to a fairly formulaic singer-songwriter album. The majority of songs hover around a 3:30 runtime, typically consisting of a couple verses and occasionally a chorus or an outro. It’s difficult to pick this apart too much, since each song sounds so polished and her writing remains satisfyingly devastating, but the album as a whole lacks the DIY identity of her debut or the echoing piano-based balladry of 

are often production touches, like the swirling and upbeat outros on “Repeat” and “Highlight Reel,” or her refined vocal harmonies on the choruses of “Ziptie” and “Favor” (with credit to Bridgers and Dacus for assistance on the latter).

Long-time fans of Baker may miss the raw, minimalist approach which highlighted her songs about sorrow on her debut, but the improved production quality adds a new dimension to Baker’s music which could provide new approaches for her music going forward. If anything, her newer material contains lots of the same things which have made her entire catalogue great, but offers a more musically inviting sound to accompany her desolate lyrics. Going forward, with three albums now under her belt and a large audience willing to consume any and all new boygenius material, it remains to be seen how Baker will push herself forward musically and lyrically.

Julien Baker continues her run of emotive releases with ‘Little Oblivions’

It should be well-known to fans of rock music that Great Britain has become a hotspot for boisterous, somewhat experimental post-punk bands in recent years, with groups like IDLES, black midi, shame, and Viagra Boys rising to prominence from various parts of the country. Little-known London-based Black Country, New Road made it clear throughout 2019 and 2020 that they were next in line, turning heads with the release of several well-received singles like “Sunglasses” and “Science Fair,” which are also featured on their debut project. They are a slightly larger band than their English counterparts, featuring seven members in total, including a keyboardist (May Kershaw) and a violinist (Georgia Ellery), and fronted by vocalist Isaac Wood. They use their expansive ensemble of members with clear intent, creating intense walls of sound and contrasting traditional punk instrumentals with hectic strings or subtle synthesizers.

Wood is capable of droning softly in a way reminiscent of King Krule, while also delivering classic punk-rock shouting outbursts. He displays his full vocal range in the album’s lead single “Sunglasses,” a track which could easily be viewed as the centerpiece of the album and the group’s magnum opus thus far in their young career. The track is a winding nine-minute journey which displays the band’s most interesting musical qualities, such as the intense multi-instrumental soundscapes they create at the climax of the song, as well as lyrics by Wood which can be either meaningful or bordering on opaque. The first part of the song criticizes upper-class snobbery through the lens of a person dating a wealthy young woman, but eventually devolves into a manic instrumental, over which Wood shouts “I’m more than adequate / Leave Kanye out of this / Leave your Sertraline in the cabinet / And burn what’s left of all the cards you kept.” The meaning is not immediately clear, seemingly describing a mixture of deep insecurity and post-adolescent bitterness, but like most of BCNR’s songs, the palpable emotion of the music is perhaps its most attractive quality.

The rest of the album’s tracklist is airtight, totaling only six songs and sitting around 41 minutes long. The opening track, “Instrumental,” is a tense blend of increasingly frantic jazz and punk which perfectly sets the tone for the remainder of the album. Another single, “Science Fair,” is similarly unnerving to “Sunglasses,” vaguely describing anxiety-inducing interactions with various women over a synth-heavy breakdown. Ellery’s subtle violin strings create an oppressive atmosphere which perfectly coincides with Wood’s desperate shouts of “I bolted through the gallery … oh, I was born to run / It’s black country out there!” The group also gives a humorous nod to a band whose influence is immediately noticeable in their music when Wood remarks “Just to think, I could have left the fair with my dignity intact / and fled the stage with the world’s second best Slint tribute act.”

If there’s one criticism to be made of Black Country, New Road’s debut album, it’s the self-imposed brevity which makes the songs feel inconsistent from one another. With only six songs, the band left themselves little room for error. They mostly followed through, although the songs “Athens, France” and “Track X” lack the energy of the rest of the album and instead rely on Wood’s poetic lyrics, which generally aren’t as captivating as the band’s musicality. The final track, “Opus,” does a satisfactory job of thematically tying the angst and dissatisfaction of the previous songs together, placing Wood’s somber verses about resenting the passage of time between sections of frenetic guitar and violin-shredding.

On their debut album, the London septet do leave room for themselves to grow into a more defining sound, but execute each song so well that fans of post-punk and experimental rock will undoubtedly be eagerly awaiting what the group has to offer in the future.

Black Country, New Road carve out their lane in the British rock scene with fiery debut ‘For the first time’

Few modern artists possess a mystique equal to that of Yves Tumor, an elusive artist based in Italy who has been known to shapeshift from genres all across the musical landscape, merging his earlier ambient sound with his more recent incorporation of pop and rock that does not stray too far from tradition. Born Sean Bowie, they began releasing music under the Yves Tumor moniker in 2015 with a collage of eerie ambient tracks, releasing roughly one full-length project per year up to their fifth and newest official release, 

Though Tumor’s sound has evolved massively over the years, it’s become even harder to pin down a full-length Yves Tumor project into a neat set of subgenres; their previous release, 

frequently incorporates influences from ambient, psychedelic, pop, and hard rock music. On 

, though, there is a definite pivot towards art rock, frequently featuring flourishing electric guitar riffs and Tumor’s dramatic, raspy delivery, reminiscent of glam rock-era David Bowie. The lead single and opening track to the album, “Gospel for a New Century,” establishes Tumor’s new sound and sets the tone for the album perfectly, contrasting a buoyant bassline with wicked horns and eventually a full-fledged rock crescendo near the two-minute mark, staking out Tumor’s role of an unlikely rockstar for the remainder of the project.

Though it would be impossible to trace back any of the lyrics on this album to Tumor’s personal life, the lyrical themes on their newest album are the most intense and passionate to date, with a tracklist constantly referring to relationships, sex, and desire. One of the several standout singles released prior to the full album, “Kerosene!”, features guest vocalist Diana Gordon, whose powerful vocals paint a vivid picture of a fiery partnership, starkly contrasting Tumor’s distinctly masculine voice. The two singers’ voices overlap throughout the latter half of the song, portraying an emotional struggle between the two lovers as well as combining a climactic rock instrumental to create a beautiful soundscape. On the track “Romanticist,” in a sensual, uptempo chorus that smacks of Prince influence, not lessened by the fact that Tumor’s voice is vaguely similar to the pop icon, Tumor covets a partner: “I wanna give you every piece of me / You know you are my everything / I wanna dance into your hurricane / Blinded by your glare again.” For the singer’s earliest fans, those who listened when Tumor strung minimalist samples into sound collages with no vocals, it would have been once unthinkable that Yves Tumor would be making magisterial love songs only five years later, but that’s exactly what 

The beautiful aspect of this musical transformation is its natural feel. Though the newest record is sonically dissimilar to Tumor’s earliest works, in which the listener could imagine Tumor quietly scouring old records and tapes for peculiar sounds that could be patched together into songs, Tumor maintains a direct hand in the production and composition of every song on his newest, most lavish record. The fact that the album is distributed by the independent Warp Records, home to fellow musical weirdos Danny Brown, Flying Lotus, and Brian Eno, makes all too much sense. Though Tumor remains a media recluse, this album is a pleasant and perhaps unexpected glimpse at their personality. The intensity of the album levels off in the latter half, revealing a more vulnerable side of Tumor, like the chorus on “Strawberry Privilege,” ditching the bravado of many of the preceding tracks and replacing it with a high-pitched performance describing someone who “Loves to run out of sight.”

The album’s tracklist is airtight, sitting at 12 songs that average three minutes apiece. Boasting Tumor’s best vocal performances to date and plush rock instrumentals which make their genre-bending style more accessible than ever, it’s clear that Tumor’s star power is continuing to rise with each release.

Yves Tumor’s attempt at rock on ‘Heaven to a Tortured Mind’ is their most gratifying release yet

Destiny Frasqueri, professionally known as Princess Nokia since 2014, became a darling of underground hip-hop fans following her debut album 

in 2017. It was a raw, energetic project that combined old school New York boom bap style with more modern trap production. Princess Nokie left her fans little time to appreciate this unique sound — each subsequent release from the budding rap star has been an artistic left turn, from her 2018 mixtape 

which was her attempt at emo rap, to her newest projects, which include pop rap and dark, cloudy trap.

was released on the same day as its sister album, 

Both albums are rather short and are meant to portray the duality of her emotions; one of them is upbeat and buoyant while the other, the subject of this review, is grim and aggressive. 

combines the more traditional trap elements of her first album with the edgy angst of 

The gritty, clever nature of Princess Nokia’s early music seems to have largely vanished on her newest project, which contains ten tracks with varying levels of stale production. She brings a much more aggressive style of rapping than her usual performances, but most of her bars are unoriginal and hamper the energy generated by the music. For instance, on “Welcome to the Circus,” when she gripes “break out of the matrix, live the moment / look up from your phone and stop the moaning.”

Nokia occasionally channels energy inspired by hardcore and punk music, but does so to varrying success. “Gross” is a fairly fun self-deprecating song with an aggressive chorus clearly meant to accompany a vicious mosh pit, but the penultimate track “Woes” fails to appeal to punk subculture as Nokia croons “I’m chilling with the skaters, I’m chilling with the punks / I’m chilling in the park with the kids having fun” in the form of a grating, auto-tuned chorus. The concluding track, “Just a Kid,” is a much more relaxed and introspective song focusing on Princess Nokia’s troubled past and formative experiences. She flows well on the song, and it encompasses the despondent mood of an album titled 

but the track feels a bit out of place when compared to the grimy bangers that precede it.

are bad, but listeners can’t help but feel disappointed in Nokia’s execution — after all, the majority of the record was recorded and produced in just one messy week in New York . It seems like the two contrasting albums released simultaneously was her entire artistic statement, and each individual song was phoned in just for the sake of completing the concept. As Princess Nokia progresses further in her career, it seems that the cunning east coast wit of her debut has been left in the past. On the bright side, she has shown no fear of constantly changing her musical direction, which will leave her fans excitedly guessing for years to come.

Princess Nokia’s ‘Everything Sucks’ yields mostly underwhelming results

Moriah Pereira, known professionally as Poppy, has harnessed the digital age to her advantage over the past half-decade. About six years ago, she began releasing abstract and surrealist short videos on her YouTube channel, and signed to Island Records under the name That Poppy in 2015. By 2017, Poppy was already releasing full musical projects with unique concepts that fit her internet-centric persona. Since then, she has largely shed the robotic persona frequently portrayed in her music and YouTube videos, focusing more heavily on testing new sounds and pushing the boundaries of her forward-thinking electro pop tunes, which she takes to a new level on her latest album.

is the 25-year-old’s third album and upon first glance it provides a stark contrast from her previous work. The front cover displays a black-and-white Poppy wearing spiked chains around her neck, seemingly covered in blood and glaring at the camera. As the album art suggests, the music represents a dark departure of the cutesy futuristic themes displayed in past years. Poppy is attempting something that has almost never been done by a mainstream artist: blending radio-friendly synth pop with heavy metal. That may sound like a disastrous combination, one that has been rarely attempted for good reason. But Poppy proves time and time again on 

that she is an artist capable of pulling off the audacious task.

The tracks with the heaviest metal influences are extremely abrasive and intentionally over-the-top. There’s no better example than the third track and lead single from the album, “BLOODMONEY,” with a screamed chorus and bass-boosted, industrial instrumental that border on ridiculous at times. The song evokes Christian imagery beside creepy lyrics and showcases Poppy at her angriest, as she repeatedly shouts the chorus “Keep telling yourself that you’ve been playing nice / then go beg for forgiveness from Jesus the Christ.” The following track, “Fill the Crown,” features the only true example of a traditional death metal performance from an uncredited collaborator. In between the metal verses, Poppy performs a melodic pop chorus, which provides perhaps the strongest juxtaposition within a single song on the whole record.

The most glaring issue with the album is a weak stretch within the middle of the album, when the initial shock of the stylistic presentation of the music has worn off. 

 relies on continually impressing the listener with its outrageous blend of genres, and falls short on a couple tracks. However, by the end of the record, Poppy dials up the aggression even further. “Bite Your Teeth” contains easily the most raucous, metal-influenced instrumental of the project, sounding like it would fit in easily on a Megadeth or Iron Maiden album. Naturally, Poppy places perhaps her most calming vocal passage in the middle of this song, and concludes it with an ethereal string excerpt. The penultimate track, “Sick of the Sun,” serves as an exceptional cool down from the previous eight tracks, showcasing a great melody and vocals supported by appropriately despondent lyrics. Closer “Don’t Go Outside,” is the most traditionally structured metal song on the record, with Poppy’s soft vocals serving as a 2-minute build-up to the main thrash-inspired instrumental, with a short, nihilistic verse finishing off the song.

Poppy shows a breathtaking level of innovation and ambition, regardless of whether the listener is left impressed with the final product. While metal purists could easily complain that the rock instrumentals throughout the album aren’t particularly original or groundbreaking, that wasn’t Poppy’s goal. If nothing else, her objective was to leave the listener slightly stunned for a half-hour duration, and it’s hard to see this album as unsuccessful in that respect.

Poppy remains on the cutting edge with ‘I Disagree’

Four months ago, Algiers, one of the most innovative rock outfits of the past decade, released perhaps their most off-the-wall song to date: a chaotic slam poetry track backed by an erratic jazz instrumental titled “Can the Sub_Bass Speak?” Combining all the elements that make the group great, from their genre-bending fluidity to the cunning wit of lead singer Franklin James Fisher, this free jazz statement was one of their most unique and acclaimed tracks to date. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that their newest album feels like a bit of a letdown. The project tones down all the musical elements of their past releases, but the unique sonic identity of the group coupled with Fisher’s impeccable lyricism is enough to make any full-length Algiers record a worthwhile listen regardless.

is the band’s third album since forming in Atlanta in 2012, and their first release since 2017. On their newest album, the band frequently swap out their industrial influences of their past work for groovier, more spacious beats that complement Fisher’s soulful delivery rather than creating a jarring contrast. Though the group’s chaotic sound is turned down a notch, the dark themes that frequently appeared on their first two albums persist. From the opening title track “There Is No Year,” all the way to the penultimate track, “Nothing Bloomed,” the band layers on apocalyptic motifs to create grim and occasionally barren soundscapes, bolstered by background instrumentals that seem suspiciously devoid of rhythm and noise. With less emphasis on unsettling instrumental combinations, the audience is forced to pay more attention to what the band says lyrically. Fisher kicks off the jazzy post-punk jam “Dispossession” by belting out, “run around, run away from your America / while it burns in the streets.” This song, seemingly about opposing tyranny and the struggle for power between authoritative figures and the general population, is unquestionably one of the signature moments on the record, with several instrumental shifts and unnerving vocal passages, all highlighted by Fisher’s exceptional delivery on each part of the song.

The only moment that surpasses the energy of “Dispossession” is the closing track “Void,” which displays levels of raw post-punk aggression that the group has rarely attempted. “Void” comes as a refreshing return to the band’s identity of crossing over between genres, incorporating a heavy garage rock influence that isn’t demonstrated on any of their previous songs, while expressing resentment at racism and affluence and once more suggesting violence looming on the horizon. Other lyrics reflecting hopelessness and ominous settings are found at nearly every corner on the record, such as the track “Wait For The Sound,” which contains perhaps the most stripped-back instrumental on the album and sounds downright miserable when combined with the opening lines, “the streets are raining fire / we’ll be gone now any day.” Though the album is undoubtedly the band’s least musically adventurous effort, the lyrical themes on the album remain as clear and consistent as ever.

Overall, the record is passable on every front and has some undeniable highlights; Algiers successfully executed all the desolate themes of the album and Fisher provided outstanding, varied vocal performances throughout the tracklist. However, with a band as musically exciting and groundbreaking as Algiers, there is an element of disappointment that comes with an album that fails to cover much new ground, which, fair or not, is only a result of the band’s past excellence. Regardless, 

 is still a worthy addition to the discography of a band that undoubtedly still has much more to offer to the musical world.

Algiers dials back the intensity on ‘There Is No Year’

There are few frontmen like Joe Talbot, the vocalist for Bristol-based post-punk band IDLES. He is imposing, as any punk rocker should be, wearing sleeves of tattoos up his arm and boasting a vocal style dominated by his growling delivery, punctuated by anthemic choruses and enraged roars. As the band performed their set, he would often toss his head back during the climax of a song, spit on the stage, or stare into the depths of the crowd, pounding his chest with a glare incited by the anger of the music. Joe Talbot is not a man someone would want to pick a fight with.

Joe Talbot, however (and the rest of the hardcore rock band for that matter), are only angry on behalf of their fans. When they aren’t berating the morally corrupt forces of modern society — see: modern media, the UK Conservative Party, bosses who take advantage of their poor workers, and toxic masculinity — they are celebrating diversity and pushing acceptance for all. In this sense, they are carrying on the traditions of punk rock that have existed since its inception — challenging authority, creating a safe environment for society’s outcasts — but spinning it into their own sound and modernizing the movements that the genre represents. There is perhaps no better indicator of this identity than their most recent, critically-acclaimed LP,

An IDLES show is an emotional roller coaster in the best sense. Their hardest-hitting, most popular songs were played, creating a raucous environment which included multiple members of the band climbing over the barrier to join the crowd’s moshing. If it isn’t clear what the band is all about from their music, such as the first song they performed, “Colossus

 a multi-part punk jam that includes the line “I’m like Stone Cold Steve Austin / I put homophobes in coffins,” it should become obvious between their songs. Before playing a song, Talbot would often give a quick dedication or overview. “This song is a feminist song,” he said, pausing as the audience gave a loud, noticeably high-pitched cheer. The song “Mother

” off the band’s first LP (NAME) in (2017), is about Talbot’s late mother, the woman he says taught him what it meant to be a feminist,and derides the abusive labor practices and pervasive culture of sexual assault againstwomen. Other times, he delivered impassioned calls for community building and solidarity in the fight against the establishment. Once, he even boldly proclaimed “Long live socialism!” meant both as a serious statement and an ironic quip at the expense of his American audience. While IDLES can sound like an angry band because of their sound, their existence is built on positivity, fighting for disenfranchised members of society and celebrating their collective strength. It’s the oppressive, ruling class of society that generates the band’s anger, which makes their concerts the quintessential modern punk experience.

Near the end of the show, Talbot prefaced the pro-immigrant anthem “Danny Nedelko” with a diatribe against racism, xenophobia, and fascism, as well as praise for the cultural diversity brought about by hardworking immigrants, which drew applause even from the stoic security guards who had apprehended upwards of 50 crowd surfers (earlier in the show, a fan had passed a bouquet of roses up to the band, which Talbot promptly re-gifted to the security guards as an apology for the disorderly audience the band was inciting). One of the most energetic and uplifting songs off the band’s latest album, “Danny Nedelko” is named after the Ukranian-born frontman of a fellow Bristol band, and the audience showed their solidarity by matching the band’s energy every step of the way.

In true punk fashion, IDLES ended the show with pure rage and noise. They performed one of the hardest songs in their catalogue, “Rottweiler,” which was dedicated to “the racist news media in [America].” By the end of the song, Talbot abandoned all vocal activities in favor of jamming his microphone into an amplifier, creating a high-pitched shriek amidst the band’s undisciplined instrumental chaos. Then, he signaled for his mic to be cut off, went towards the back of the stage to join drummer Jon Beavis, smashing the drums with his bare hands. Then the show ended, leaving the audience tired, sweaty, and closer together than they had been just a few hours prior. Despite the songs often being political and wrathful, there was a tangible sense of joy and hopefulness among the crowd, just as IDLES’ identity would dictate.

IDLES bring punk rock into the 21st Century at Royale

At some times quiet, and other times brash and emotional, this record succeeds in encapsulating teenage anxieties in a simple and fresh way.

When I was 17, about to graduate high school, I remember having feelings of bittersweet sentimentality, a sense of fear but also acceptance of leaving behind old friends and unrequited crushes for something new in college. When Lindsey Jordan was 17 and about to graduate, she also was dealing with these moody, teenage feelings — but with the embarrassment of having to ask her high school principal for permission to ditch school and travel to Brooklyn to do some shows with her band, Snail Mail.

One show turned into an EP release in 2016, which turned into a SXSW appearance this past March, all leading up to the release of Snail Mail’s first full-length 

, released June 8th on Matador Records. At some times quiet, and other times brash and emotional, this record succeeds in encapsulating teenage anxieties in a simple and fresh way.

The record begins packing an emotional punch with the lead single ‘Pristine,’ a moody song which has Lindsey Jordan singing about not being able to let go of an ex-lover. Jordan sings straightforwardly on this song, as she does on the rest of the record, and does an amazing job of letting her emotions define the centrality of the record. During the bridge of ‘Pristine,’ Jordan seems to be interrogating this ex-lover of hers, asking, “Be honest with me / Who do you change for / Who’s top of your world?” She then reaches a breakthrough in her feelings as she shouts near the end of the song over a soaring instrumental, “We can be anything / even apart / Out of everything / It doesn’t have to be this hard.”

In addition to possessing stellar songwriting abilities, Jordan is also a prolific guitar player, and this skill is evident through the powerful chord riffs in songs like ‘Pristine’ and ‘Full Control’ to complex, classical guitar licks in quieter songs like ‘Speaker Terms,’ ‘Heatwave,’ and ‘Let’s Find an Out.’ Jordan’s musical talents are so refined and professional that it’s hard to believe that these skills are coming from a 17-year-old on her first record.

Despite having a mature skillset, what makes 

 stand out as a record is its ability to awaken a youthful desire for love in all of us that listen. One of the standouts of the record, ‘Let’s Find an Out,’ encapsulates this in a short, but achingly gorgeous two minutes. The song starts with a crystal-clear guitar and bass line, with Jordan’s voice entering later, her voice sighing as she sings about restarting a fading relationship. “Let’s find an out,” she sings in the second verse, “We’ll start anew / With the headlights in your eyes / I see it all over you”. The words are simple yet speak to the core of what she wants in love with pure elegance.

 is a gorgeous debut from an young indie rocker who will hopefully continue to release even more music that grows and matures as she does the same.

Sean Gallipo