The grief-stricken Chicago rapper’s latest is a marvel of craft, musicality, and emotion. Through Saba’s inner turmoil, he finds his most powerful and diaristic storytelling.
The debut album from the Colombian-American singer is a world of her own. Her wide range pulls in sounds from reggaetón, funk, and R&B and positions her to become a new gravitational force in pop.
Cardi B’s remarkable debut places her, without a doubt, in the pantheon of great rappers. It is both brazen and vulnerable, filled with wild amounts of personality, style, and craft.
Part biting satire, part cognitive behavioral therapy, Jean Grae and Quelle Chris’ collaboration is a hilarious, caustic, and gorgeous consideration of what it really means to be “fine” today.
The mystical grandeur of Golden Hour creates a magnetic effect as Kacey Musgraves sings simply about the world as if she’s the first person to notice, and you’re the first one she’s telling.
The fifth album from Damon McMahon is his euphoric breakthrough. Everything feels silvery and romantic, like a hallucination of the classic-rock songbook.
The expansive companion album to last year’s A Crow Looked At Me is no less a marvel. Phil Elverum’s latest is part memoir and part magnum opus, sung softly and with wonder.
Sophie Allison’s excellent studio debut is a compact album of clear melodies, plainspoken lyrics, and the impossibly tangled logic of infatuation.
Dusting off an old alias, Nicolas Jaar lets loose a surprise release of sample-heavy cuts both bolder and more refined than his early club tracks.
The four-man Bay Area rap crew delivers a breathless, irresistible, and highly defined record that hits your gut and your shoulders at the same time.
Meg Remy is a narrative savant and her glorious, danceable new album is a righteous collection of razor-sharp songs, full of spit and fury, a high-water mark for political pop music.
Will Toledo’s re-recorded version of an album originally released in 2011 speaks to his greatest gifts as a songwriter: wit, cynicism, and an eye for detail that captures teenaged desire and heartache.
The fearless Chicago rapper offers her best album yet, with terrific production and a barrage of raps that reveal Elizabeth Harris to be far more than her hilarious and absurdly raunchy one-liners.
Charli XCX’s latest mixtape is a vision of what pop music could be, the sound of an eclectic, hyperreal future where romantic love is fun but fucked and partying is an emotional refuge.
Filled with flute and birdsong, Björk’s 10th album is deeply personal, a discovery of googly-eyed romance, a rebuke of violent men, and a generous offering of love song after love song.
Sung mostly in French, Gainsbourg’s gripping new album finds her in the tangles of grief. It is at once scorchingly intimate and fantastically oversized.
On her second album as Fever Ray, Karin Dreijer is more conflicted, more manic—and more in love, too.
The second album from Tennessee songwriter Julien Baker wrestles with self-worth, rejection, and God. Centering on her voice, guitar, and piano, Baker begins to sound defiant.
The producer born Archy Marshall crafted The OOZ to be alien and timeless. It is the richest and most immersive album the London singer-songwriter has made yet, under any name.
Kelela’s debut album is technically stunning and emotionally realized. It lives in a new, outré, rhythmic pop galaxy that honors but outpaces its peers.