Canonically, Lisa’s first word on The Simpsons is “Bart.” Or more accurately, “Bart Bart Bart Bart Bart.” That’s what 2024 sounded like with “Brat.” It’s not like Charli XCX wasn’t famous before her sixth studio album, the one with the much meme’d green cover. She was behind three top-10 singles (and Pop 2 is a classic to those in the know). But it felt she was always on the outside looking in at the other pop stars racking up tens of millions of plays: too boundary-pushing for the mainstream. Then came Brat, which made her word-of-the-year, Kamala-is-brat, SNL-host-and-musical-guest famous. Finally, Charli was selling out arenas with her brilliantly brash and refreshingly vulnerable take on pop, and all it took was a clever aesthetic for those outside her core fanbase to notice. “I was born to make dance music,” she wrote on social media ahead of the album’s release. “xcx6 is the album I’ve always wanted to make.” Brat is one club classic after another. – Josh Kurp

From interpolating early freestyle and ’80s R&B to putting on bubbling local rappers, Kendrick Lamar’s surprise album is as much an ode to Los Angeles street culture as it is a devastating declaration of intent for the next ten years of hip-hop in general. As of this writing, “Squabble Up” is well on its way to becoming the Compton rapper’s third No. 1 song of 2024, another notch in the pistol he used to gun down Drake’s career this year, and GNX is living up to its name, roaring off the line as it speeds its way into our hearts. — Aaron Williams

There are many conversations surrounding women in rap, specifically regarding their chosen subject matter. Well, Doechii heard comments about “p*ssy rap” and decided to show her ass, both literally and figuratively. With her TDE debut mixtape, Alligator Bites Don’t Heal, Doechii proves she can not be pigeonholed, and the Best New Artist Grammy nomination was well-deserved. Alligator Bites Never Heal amalgamates Doechii’s artistic fine-tuning. Doechii is a rapper’s rapper (“Nissan Altima”), a charismatic storyteller (“Boom Bap“), and kryptonite for any dance floor. — Flisadam Pointer

Neil Young’s fourth solo album was Harvest, a timeless masterpiece of mellow isolation. It’s too soon to say whether the fourth album from MJ Lenderman — Manning Fireworks, a well-observed mix of scrappy indie rock and twangy country — will be remembered as fondly as the album that gave us “Heart Of Gold.” But, odds are high people will be checking out the Himbo Dome for years, if not decades, to come. — Josh Kurp

Katie Crutchfield reckons her fanbase doubled following the acclaimed success of 2020’s Saint Cloud. What would she do for a follow-up? Make the breeziest record of her career. Waxahatchee’s Tigers Blood tackles thorny issues (“I make a living crying, it ain’t fair” is the third line on the album), but it’s delivered in a rootsy, country-tinged way that calls to mind Lucinda Williams or Wildflowers-era Tom Petty. Crutchfield belonged among the wildflowers all this time. — Josh Kurp

Cowboy Carter became Beyoncé’s eighth No. 1 album and produced 23 Billboard Hot 100 charters — including “Texas Hold ‘Em,” “II Most Wanted” with Miley Cyrus, and “Jolene” in the top 10. More significantly, Cowboy Carter serves as Beyoncé’s magnificent declaration that she should never have been the first-ever Black woman to lead Billboard‘s Top Country Albums chart. The 27-track masterpiece is an ode to Black artists excluded from a genre built on their backs, like Linda Martell, and an invitation for young Black country artists (Brittney Spencer, Shaboozey, Tanner Adell, Tiera Kennedy) to join her in standing boldly — unshakably — in their artistry. — Megan Armstrong

For the entirety of Tyler, The Creator’s career, he has embraced being a rap contrarian who forced the culture to catch up to him. Chromakopia is another moment illustrating that. Rap music is not a monolith — neither is Tyler. Still, Chromakopia does a phenomenal job of highlighting the complexity of Tyler, the man and musician. The constant “othering” of Tyler has forced him to grow a thick skin and build up an impenetrable wall. Now, that wall has come crashing down, and as a result, his fixation on the future, an itch to innovate, and cultivation of culture gave the world Chromakopia. — Flisadam Pointer

The most heartwarming indie-rock story of 2024. A respected veteran puts out an ambitious 32-song record on a poorly designed Geocities site with no promotion, and it quickly becomes one of the most acclaimed records of the year. People put on this record and they immediately recognized a better, bigger, and more inviting version of the internet as it existed in the pre-social media era. But there are other ghosts here — Diamond Jubilee unfolds like the greatest oldies station of a post-apocalyptic world, in which garage-rock one-hit wonders and girl-group legacy acts create a haunting soundtrack for a decaying world. — Steven Hyden

“I didn’t have [BLANK] on my [YEAR] bingo card” is one of the most overplayed turns of phrase. But it works with Songs Of A Lost World since I’m playing it a lot: I didn’t have The Cure releasing one of the best albums of the year, and one of the best albums of the band’s lengthy career, on my 2024 bingo card. The sixteen-year wait was worth it to make something so emotionally elegant. — Josh Kurp

Never doubt the Disney-Channel-darling-to-pop-princess pipeline. However, nothing about Sabrina Carpenter’s success fits that cookie-cutter mold, including Short N’ Sweet. Crafting radio-friendly, chart-topping pop tunes is just a slice of what Sabrina Carpenter is capable of. Yes, the project’s lead singles, “Espresso” and “Please Please Please,” were pieces of pop confectionery. In totality, though, Short N’ Sweet is a balanced serving of all Carpenter’s artistic groupings — clever songwriting, genre-fluid production, and rich vocal techniques. — Flisadam Pointer

The application of distortion immediately sets Only God Was Above Us apart from the other VW albums. In 10 years, there will be no question from which record “Hope” or “Capricorn” or “Mary Boone” derives. (Whereas the tracks from Vampire Weekend and Contra, in Strokes-like fashion, kind of blend together.) OGWAU is definitely different. At the same time, the lyrics immediately ground the LP in an East Coast milieu that was seemingly abandoned after the beloved third-album masterpiece. It sounds like the disaffected narrator of Modern Vampires Of The City with 11 more years of wisdom. OGWAU is definitely similar to other Vampire Weekend albums. HIPPIE/GOTH-ness has been achieved. The album-catalog-as-book, once again, evolves. — Steven Hyden

In 20 years we’re all going to look back at Adrianne Lenker’s songwriting run in the late 2010s and early 2020s as one of the great creative outbursts of this era. Lenker writes so many songs — and so many great songs — that she’s had to work outside of her otherwise prolific band Big Thief to accommodate them all. Bright Future is an undeniably impressive achievement by an artist who is increasingly willing to work without a net (or much refinement, for better or worse). There are some fantastic tunes here (“No Machine,” “Already Lost”) as well as plenty of fascinating experiments. — Steven Hyden

“Timeless” is the adjective most often applied to Jessica Pratt’s music, but it’s not really accurate. Like all of Pratt’s records, Here In The Pitch is very much rooted in a specific era, which is the opposite of “timeless.” A better descriptor of her sound is “dated but in a good way.” On Pitch, understated orchestrations commingle with featherlight bossa-nova rhythms and Pratt’s own expressive croon, which hints at a well of emotion held in check by a stoic, enigmatic chilliness. It is the best album of 1966 released in 2024. — Steven Hyden

After spending the last half-decade as rockstars in their native Ireland, Fontaines DC are starting to make some deserved headway among American audiences: They’ve been critical favorites this whole time, but Romance landed the group on the Billboard 200 chart for the first time. Their new singles have done well, too, as the trippy “Starburster” and the jangly “Favourite” got the band their first US rock chart placements. Finally, the tangibles are catching up with what the eye test (and Elton John) has always said: Fontaines DC are top-tier, no matter where you are. — Derrick Rossignol

At this point, few of us, if any, should be complaining about the long wait between Top Dawg Entertainment projects. The last few years have brought projects such as Ab-Soul’s Herbert, Isaiah Rashad’s The House Is Burning, and of course, SZA’s SOS after five-year gaps — an approach that seems to be the recipe for producing some of those artists’ most heartfelt, innovative works to date. Schoolboy Q turns out to be no exception. His latest also arrives five years after its predecessor, Crash Talk, bringing with it the very soul of Los Angeles’ experimental jazz history. An eccentric compilation that never stays in one vibe too long, Blue Lips presents a portrait of a matured, sophisticated gangster. — Aaron Williams

Hit Me Hard And Soft feels like Billie Eilish’s awakening from a five-year-long slog since debuting with When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?. With mature clarity, she needed just 10 songs. And maybe the highest compliment to Eilish and Finneas’ artistic genius? Depth wasn’t sacrificed for brevity. Yeah, all 10 charted on the Billboard Hot 100, led by the control-hungry, lustful “Lunch” at No. 5. But the album’s brilliance is best illustrated by “Blue,” a career-long-gestating song that cleverly references every Hit Me track to close out a cohesive statement of an album in a time defined by excessive hodgepodge. — Megan Armstrong

Mannequin Pussy lead singer Marisa Dabice described I Got Heaven as being about “”the longing for something new and exciting.”” The fourth album from the Philly-based punk group is new and exciting — and one of the best albums of the year. I Got Heaven catches a fired-up Mannequin Pussy taking the same confident leap as Hole did with Pretty On The Inside to Live Through This, or Turnstile from Time & Space to Glow On: it’s a softer sound than the 80-second rippers on their earlier albums, though no less furious. There’s catharsis in singing instead of screaming, too. — Josh Kurp

Too few modern pop albums go all in on their outlandish ideas. Whereas many artists dominating the zeitgeist opt for self-mythology and astrological readings as a specious form of vulnerability, Magdalena Bay have resuscitated the capital-A Absurd pop concept record with Imaginal Disk. Even aside from its zany storyline about apes and aliens, the duo’s second album stands on its own, from the jaunty shuffle of “Killing Time” to the sci-fi synth arpeggios of “Image.” — Grant Sharples

MK.gee has spent the past handful of years building a name for himself in the industry: He has collaborations with The Kid Laroi and Omar Apollo under his belt, and he even landed a credit on Drake’s Certified Lover Boy (via a sample). After all of this, he finally has a debut album out in the world, Two Star & The Dream Police, an intriguing effort that offers tight production, thought-providing lyrics, and clear evidence of MK.gee’s growth as an artist. — Derrick Rossignol

Few collaborators in the modern era of rap have had such the impact that Future and Metro Boomin have had together. A world-stopping moment or noticeable shift occurs more times than not when Future and Metro connect. That’s exactly what happened when the duo delivered We Don’t Trust You in the spring of 2024. For starters, the album kickstarted one of the biggest rap beef’s ever thanks to Kendrick Lamar’s piercing shots at Drake on “Like That,” and just like that, the genre was sent into a wild spiral for the following six weeks. Aside from this, We Don’t Trust You is a great album built off great production from Metro (see “Type Sh*t,” “Magic Don Juan,” “Fried,” and “Everyday Hustle”) and raps from Future that show why his run entered its second decade. There are many reasons to remember We Don’t Trust You, but there’s no denying the quality that comes with it. – Wongo Okon

Time has always played an integral role in Alynda Segarra’s work. It’s a recurring character that’ll pop up for a moment, explicit or implicit, on records like 2022’s Life On Earth or 2017’s The Navigator. But for The Past Is Still Alive, Segarra’s ninth record as Hurray For The Riff Raff, time has itself not only become one of its main characters; it’s also the plot, setting, and damn well everything else. “I know I should probably get over it / But somehow it feels I’m still in it,” they sing, referring to their old days as the “dirty kid” who ate “out of garbage” over brushed drums and warm Americana strings. “Some things take time,” goes part of the refrain for “Buffalo.” “It’s all in the past, but the past is still alive,” they sing on the rollicking alt-country stomper “Vetiver.” Time is just a social construct, sure, but isn’t that a bit reductive? Segarra shows us that time, however we may view it, is all around us. All the time. – Grant Sharples

Hometown bias aside, I have long believed that Long Beach rapper Vince Staples has been one of rap’s most quietly insightful, innovative voices since 2014, when I first heard him on Common’s Nobody Smiling single “Kingdom.” Since then, his confidence in his artistic vision has only grown, while his already prodigious talents sharpened in his efforts to bring that vision to grungy, cinematic life. Dark Times is the culmination of that growth, presenting a version of Vince that pairs his photographic observations of life at the bottom of the American pyramid with a collection of instrumentals destined to shatter the last (stupid) arguments against him — you can’t say he picks bad beats now. — Aaron Williams

Tyla’s self-titled debut album validated every award and accolade and every chart position she sat in before its release. Hindsight is truly 20/20, but the South Africa singer exhibited all the signs of a star in the making thanks to her breakout hit “Water.” The infectious record took over the world with a pulsating amapiano beat that turned all settings into a dance floor, and impressive songwriting upheld by lyrics with an NSFW double-meaning that only drew people closer to the song. With Tyla, this fun continues. “No. 1” removes men from the dance floor for a woman-empowering anthem with Tems while their invitation to return allows Gunna and Skillibeng to contribute to the album’s best moment with “Jump.” In Tyla’s world, your most free self exists on the dance floor, and in her case, so does a masterpiece of an album. — Wongo Okon

It’s Jack White in a room with his crackerjack band, playing extremely loud, on a collection of riff-y rock songs that sound like they were written five minutes before they were recorded. It’s raw, it’s direct, and — this is a compliment — it’s not all that thought out. But the adjective that most applies hasn’t appeared in a Jack White album review since possibly the mid-aughts: Great. No Name is actually pretty damn great. — Steven Hyden

The definition of a debut album has become somewhat hazy in the past decade or so; so many of rap’s modern titans started their careers with “mixtapes” full of original material, and so many “albums” have been redesignated as commercial mixtapes ex post facto that there’s almost no meaning to any of these terms anymore. But if you wanted to start from scratch, Glorious would be a fine example to emulate. Reintroducing the world to an artist with the charisma and polish to carry its 15 tracks practically unassisted, the collection offers both a broad overview and a deep dive into what makes the Memphis rapper so… well, glorious. — Aaron Williams

One of the best albums by one of the modern greats. After the brilliant but insular genre experimentation of Chloë And The Next 20th Century, Josh Tillman returned to his roots with this stunning and grandiose statement of purpose. Hilarious, pretentious, insightful, messianic, beautiful, disturbing, of-the-moment, timeless — the man simply does not miss when he lets it all hang out like this. And he’s even doing interviews again and dropping tweets on the disintegrating social media husk known as X. Welcome back to the world, Josh. You got better as we got worse. — Steven Hyden

Sonic Youth was a band that toed the line between alt-rock and noise-rock. Seminal albums like 1988’s Daydream Nation and 1990’s Goo established the NYC misfits as art-rock luminaries, so it only makes sense that co-founder Kim Gordon has pursued this penchant for atonal dissonance in her solo work, too. Beginning with 2019’s No Home Record and expanding upon that foundation for its follow-up, The Collective, Gordon draws from Whole Lotta Red rage-rap and Psychocandy post-punk to construct her own strain of delightful delirium. Take Justin Raisen’s booming 808s on opener “BYE BYE” or the foreboding synth melody snaking a path through “The Candy House.” Even four decades removed from the first Sonic Youth LP, Gordon is still on the cutting edge. – Grant Sharples

Charm was partially recorded in a studio in upstate New York, a part of the country known for its crisp climate. But, there’s nothing chilly about Clairo’s third album (and her first to be nominated for a Grammy). Charm is a collection of warm, soulful soft-rock tunes; it’s the soundtrack to a crackling fireplace. “I feel weirdly more confident than I [ever] have,” Clairo said about the album. It shows. — Josh Kurp

For the second consecutive year, Leon Thomas is in the running for R&B album of the year, thanks to his sophomore effort Mutt. A year removed from his debut album, Thomas used Mutt to show that his love life in Hollywood still presents the same highs and lows. Thankfully, the music’s as good as it’s ever been for Thomas, who whisked listeners away with standouts like the pleading “Answer Your Phone,” the sensual “Yes It Is,” and the brutally honest “Mutt” and “Safe Place.” What makes Mutt so good is Thomas’ vulnerability in pouring out his feelings in romance, and in admitting to his flaws as a young man aiming to be his best self in a trying world. It’s the type of vulnerability that the male R&B world needs more of. — Wongo Okon

The best singer in indie rock? Rosali belongs at or near the top of my list and your list and anybody’s list. Pairing Sandy Denny’s tone with Chrissie Hynde’s toughness, Rosali also writes songs that are worthy of her stunning vocals. Bite Down elaborates on the Crazy Horse-isms that distinguished her previous album, No Medium, which also featured the backing of the excellent Nebraska band, David Nance and Mowed Sound. But while No Medium felt like stepping out of the darkness — addiction, romantic loss, and mortality are among the topics — Bite Down is about fighting for (and claiming) the light. — Steven Hyden

Country music has been having a moment over the past few years, but Kacey Musgraves was doing her Nashville thing before it was trendy and became a crossover success along the way (perhaps even helping to get mainstream ears acclimated to accept the twang soon to come?). That said, Musgraves has also refused to be tied down to one genre, even if the country essence of her singing and songwriting hasn’t fully faded. You might even call Deeper Well, her latest, more of a folk album than a country one, and while it sees her continuing to expand her horizons, she’s not leaving her roots too far behind, either. — Derrick Rossignol

Sturgill Simpson’s first music under a different name is the closest he’s come to making a “classic”-sounding Sturgill Simpson LP in quite some time. In true paradoxical Sturgill Simpson fashion, being someone else has given him permission to be more like himself. Frankly, it sounds like the record that his label would have killed for in 2019, rather than the cage-rattling (and admittedly great) provocation that was Sound & Fury. — Steven Hyden

Fans waited seven years for the follow-up to the acclaimed Anderson .Paak and Knxwledge collaboration, Yes Lawd!, and the two soulful hip-hop aficionados paid off that patience in spades. Where the prior effort was an exercise in promulgating the practice of pimpin’, Why Lawd? is a somber reflection on the attendant and inevitable consequences thereof. Songs like “FromHere” and “SheUsed” paint a picture of a regretful ex-lover, hoping it’s not too late to make up for all the philandering. It looks like there are still some R&B adherents who ain’t too proud to beg. — Aaron Williams

Most remix albums are slightly revised, if inessential, versions of their source material. Then again, most albums aren’t brat, so of course brat’s remix album is its own beast altogether. You could even make the argument that the wonderfully titled brat and it’s completely different but also still brat is the seventh proper LP from Charli XCX. But it’s still brat, a semantic ouroboros. It’s composed of the same tracklist as its sister record, albeit most of its songs’ variations range from the additional (yet earth-shattering) guest verse on “Girl, so confusing,” featuring Lorde, to the nearly unrecognizable iteration of “I might say something stupid” featuring Jon Hopkins and The 1975’s Matty Healy. Charli, contributing freshly recorded vocal takes, still sits at the album’s core, as she recruits a wide range of collaborators — Julian Casablancas, Troye Sivan, Bladee, Addison Rae, Bon Iver, Ariana Grande, etc. — to buttress her songs of isolation, deeming her isolated no more in the process. In other words, she worked it out on the remix. – Grant Sharples

An album I didn’t know I was waiting for. This, to my ears, appears to be the concept: Chocolate And Cheese, only minus the jokes about AIDS and dying children and all the songs sound like “Baby Bitch” and “What Deaner Was Talking About.” (Attention to other bands: Please steal this idea!) — Steven Hyden

Ariana Grande internalized Glinda The Good Witch to concoct Eternal Sunshine, which could accurately be called Eternal Dopamine. Grande cleverly captures a complicated relationship arc (or two) — alluding to her recent divorce and new love without exploiting either. Eternal is bookended by Grande’s uncertainty (“How can I tell if I’m in the right relationship?”) and Grande’s beloved Nonna’s wisdom (“Never go to bed without kissing goodnight”). The Billboard Hot 100 chart-topper “We Can’t Be Friends (Wait For Your Love)” and its video recreating Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind solidify that Grande (and Max Martin) executed a magical concept album. — Megan Armstrong

At the vanguard of ambient-jazz, Nala Sinephro’s work fuses the tactile and the mystical. There’s a tangibility to Sinephro’s playing that evokes the virtuosic finesse of jazz with the otherworldly esoterica of ambient music. Endlessness, the London-based musician’s second album, hinges on a repeated arpeggio that slowly, imperceptibly morphs across 10 tracks, or, in the parlance of its own universe, 10 continuums. That enduring melody adapts itself to different textures, volumes, tempos, and timbres, showcasing the possibilities that exist within just a single idea. By the record’s end, Sinephro suggests that even the familiar, such as the ostinato we’ve been hearing for the past 40 or so minutes, can once again become unfamiliar, rendered into shapes we hadn’t previously imagined. – Grant Sharples

The first studio album from Los Campesinos! in seven years resembles a homecoming of sorts. Now returning to the emo milieu they helped shape, the Welsh septet sound like they’ve just come home from a perilous, formative Odyssey, but All Hell miraculously sounds like a record from a band that never even left in the first place. High-energy cuts like “To Hell In A Handjob” and “Holy Smoke (2005)” are classic LC! with their recombinant pop-punk/indie-rock blueprints, yet the group expands their charmingly ambitious songwriting on searing anthems like “Feast Of Tongues” and “The Coin-Op Guillotine.” Self-released and self-produced, All Hell sees LC! simply trust their own vision. And it’s a vision you gotta respect. – Grant Sharples

Cassandra Jenkins’ third album almost didn’t exist. After the majestic An Overview On Phenomenal Nature was met with widespread critical acclaim in 2021, however, her perspective shifted. She wasn’t ready to give up on music just yet. That thread of newfound confidence in her work emerges throughout My Light, My Destroyer; “Only One” and “Devotion” radiate love and vulnerability, respectively, and Jenkins’ cosmological motifs glimmer like the stars themselves in “Betelgeuse” and “Omakase.” In both its subject matter and meditative arrangements, My Light, My Destroyer connects the dots like gazing skyward to find the Big Dipper looming above. Across its 13 tracks, the Brooklyn songwriter’s epiphanies ring as storied truths, containing the wisdom of ancient maxims imbued with the luminescent glow of discovery. – Grant Sharples

Washington DC is one of punk’s storied epicenters, and Ekko Astral have put their own spin on it. The progenitors of the self-coined “mascara mosh pit” combine noise, art rock, and garage-punk on their debut album, Pink Balloons. Across its 11 tracks, singer (and climate reporter) Jael Holzman’s delivery goes from unbothered snark toward flippant consumerism on “On Brand” to seething vitriol toward stalkers on “Head Empty Blues.” Like Holzman’s reporting and her band’s music show, the world can be a sh*tty place. So, you may as well apply some mascara, get in the mosh pit, and let your feelings out. — Grant Sharples

Are we ever getting a new album from The xx? It remains to be seen when the group will follow 2017’s I See You, but in the meantime, the trio’s members have kept busy with their solo affairs. Jamie xx was this year’s headliner, himself ending a long hiatus with In Waves, his first solo album since 2015. It was worth the wait, though, for bangers like “All You Children” (a collab with The Avalanches) and “Waited All Night” (a pseudo-The xx song featuring Romy and Oliver Sim). — Derrick Rossignol

LL Cool J’s rap career started in 1984. He was just 16 years old when he signed to Def Jam and released his debut album, Radio. Now, more than 40 years later, he demonstrates the same traits that made that album a foundational rap classic: A fierce commitment to top-of-the-field rapping technique and an adventurous proclivity toward left-of-center, forward-looking production. While 40 years old was once the cutoff for being “too old” in rap — a concept LL is more than a little bit responsible for — LL’s rap career has officially outlasted that watermark itself, and his first album in 11 years more than justifies the achievement. — Aaron Williams

Want to run the fastest mile of your life? Want to feel like you can crack a brick with your teeth? Want to listen to an album that even on the lowest volume will give you a jump scare when the first scream on opener “Thrist” hits? Listen to Knocked Loose’s You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To. The brilliantly brutal fourth album from the metalcore favorites will take your breath away — because it sounds just like a punch in the stomach feels. — Josh Kurp

St. Vincent knew she wanted to make an album titled All Born Screaming since she was in her early 20s, but she wasn’t ready. “You have to live a lot to be worthy of a title that really says it all,” she said. St. Vincent, now 42, has lived a lot since her Polyphonic Spree days, and she poured all her experiences into All Born Screaming. It features some of her tightest songwriting and most carnal production. She’s having a devilishly good time. – Josh Kurp

The genius of Ravyn Lenae was once again put on display with her sophomore album Bird’s Eye. Through 11 songs, Lenae put together a body of work that is enchanting, moving, and euphoric, to say the least. The excellence of this album lives on records like “One Wish” Childish Gambino which uses a simple birthday wish to showcase the heartbreak caused by the absence of a loved one, in Lenae’s case, her father. Then there’s “Dream Girl” with Ty Dolla Sign, which aims to persuade a companion into the intimate moment they both desire. “Love Is Blind” and “Love Me Not” grapple with desire and dependency in ways that only Lenae could deliver them — raw, brutally honest, and failed with the pain of a scorned heart. Bird’s Eye sweeps you off your feet and carries you to heights that inspired the album’s title. — Wongo Okon

Equal parts sexy, magical, and mysterious, Kali Uchis‘ fourth studio album Orquídeas celebrates her Colombian roots as she takes her artistry to the next level. Uchis gets more raw than ever before, sharing Spanish-language anecdotes on sex, heartache, and love. She has found solace in her muse, Don Toliver, and arrives to a point where she’s no longer avoiding falling in love — like on her 2017 breakthrough single “Tyrant” — but rather, inviting all of those feelings in. Delivering these poetic ruminations in her native language makes it all the more personal. — Alex Gonzalez

The cover of Blood Incantation’s Absolute Elsewhere shows a pair of fire-red pyramids on a planet that’s similar to ours, but with more open pits to hell. It’s as familiar yet transportive as the music itself: tried-and-true riffs, expressed in otherworldly new ways. It’s a little bit zoned-out prog, a little bit blood-curdling death metal, and a complete classic. — Josh Kurp

Since her 2019 debut album, Miss Universe, indie rocker Nilüfer Yanya has steadily leveled up her songwriting. On her third record, My Method Actor, Yanya ascends to new heights. From the gritty guitars on “Like I Say (I Runaway)” to the in-the-pocket drums on “Mutations,” and hypnotic slow burns like “Binding” and “Call It Love,” My Method Actor solidifies Yanya’s startling consistency. She simply does not miss. — Grant Sharples

My Rookie Of The Year. This Chicago band tried to make a modern version of Funeral or Apologies To The Queen Mary with their debut, which is sort of amazing given that the band members are barely older than those records. Then again, you sort of have to be in the your early-to-mid-twenties to think that executing mile-high and melodramatic indie-rock songs can make sense in a club. Friko pretty much nail it, though I expect the next record to be the really special one. — Steven Hyden

Kaytranada’s third album Timeless arrived to continue a strong run that began with the release of Bubba in 2019 and continued with 2023’s Kaytraminé alongside Aminé. Timeless introduced a futuristic spin on Kaytranada’s invigorating sound which blends disco, electronic, R&B, hip-hop, house, and more for some of the sweetest symphonies. The best moment arrives on the Childish Gambino-assisted “Witchy,” a dance record that drives Gambino’s soul-driven verses toward a climactic chorus that explodes into a funky celebration. Anderson .Paak and SiR’s “Do 2 Me,” Tinashe’s “More Than A Little Bit,” and Don Toliver’s “Feel A Way” also add to the beauty of Timeless. In the end, Kaytra used 21 songs to prove that his prime era was far from over. — Wongo Okon