Billboard's 50 Best Albums of 2024 (So Far)

When Dallas native 4batz—real name Neko Bennett—walked up to the mic on the popular performance YouTube series *From the Block* in a black ski mask and a full set of gold grillz, with a double cup in hand and his crew in the background, he looked like he was about to spit raps about his trials and tribulations growing up in his neighborhood. Which is why many listeners were shocked when a gentle and pitched-up croon came out of his mouth instead. “For me to sing, it was different,” he tells Apple Music. “I didn’t think anybody was going to accept it, but at the time, I didn’t care. I took that shit the most dramatic way. I was on the block with my guys behind me, just doing my own thing, popping out, and really just having my own way. I embraced that to the core all the way.” The first time 4batz appeared on *From the Block* he performed his debut single “act i: stickerz ‘99,’” but it was when he returned to do the infectious and moody track “act ii: date @ 8” that he catapulted from underground artist to breakout star. The viral track earned him co-signs from SZA, Timbaland, and Drake, who appears on the remix. His ambitious debut mixtape *u made me a st4r* further mines his love of ’90s R&B and emotive storytelling, using pitched-up and slowed-down vocals to tell, over the course of eight “acts,” the personal story of a turbulent relationship gone wrong. On “act i: stickerz ‘99,’” 4batz uses a metaphor to illustrate unrequited yearning. “I felt delusional over a certain female, and I remember I was like, ‘Yo, I feel like this girl doesn’t want to be with me, but I still fly to see her. I’ll still be with her right now.’ And that’s how ‘Stickerz’ came about, because I was stuck to someone that wasn’t stuck to me,” he says. The project is bookended by that and “act viii: i hate to be alone,” which ruminates on finality and heartbreak. And if it all sounds a little too real, that’s because, for 4batz, it was. “All this, it’s actual things,” he says. “It’s not just something I just walked in the living room, came in the booth, and just made. This is real life.”

Ariana Grande is used to being in the spotlight, but over time, she’s gotten savvy at playing it. The pop star’s seventh studio album *eternal sunshine*—a lightly conceptual riff on the head-spinning 2004 film starring Jim Carrey, of whom Grande has said she’s a lifelong fan—feels like a mind game itself, blurring the lines between real-life references and theatrical bits. It arrives in the middle of a whirlwind tabloid-packed stretch—Grande married, divorced, and scored a starring role in Hollywood’s big-screen adaptation of *Wicked*—and she knows fans have questions. What’s true? What’s real? Ari gives a lot of things on this album, but answers aren’t one of them, a cunning reminder of how little transparency celebrities actually owe us. In an interview with Zane Lowe, Grande leans into the project’s thematic murkiness. “true story,” she says, is “an untrue story based on all untrue events,” and when asked about her own experience with the Saturn return, an astrology milestone referenced in the album’s only interlude, she shrugs. “It was chill. Nothing changed. Pretty uneventful.” She says she finds freedom in art because “you can really pull from anywhere,” and she describes the film as another “lovely costume” to wear. Her answers have flickers of defiance that feel like power. Whoever said albums had to be tidy, or true? “It doesn’t have to be an everlasting love story,” she tells Lowe. “Love is complicated. Showcasing both sides of it is what I tried to \[do\].” If there’s one thing these tracks make clear, it’s that she’s still Ari on the mic—she’s still hitting those high highs (“eternal sunshine”); still finding release on the dance floor (“yes, and?”); still sifting gold out of ’90s R&B (“the boy is mine”), a sequel to the leaked 2023 track “fantasize.” Her favorite? “imperfect for you,” a tribute to the friends who make up her inner circle. “We’re so lucky to have loved ones who are accepting and real with us no matter what,” she says. “We live in a time where everything is boiled down, but that song demands room for nuance, humanness, and complexity.”

“In my head, I was looking at this album like a TV show,” Nigerian singer Ayra Starr tells Apple Music about her sophomore album *The Year I Turned 21*. “Every song is an episode.” Structured as a series of life’s key moments, the album features the sonic adventures and lyrical savvy that saw Starr’s debut album, 2021’s *19 & Dangerous*, set Afropop streaming records. Brimming with self-confidence and unvarnished introspection, *The Year I Turned 21* covers a range of topics, from the fear of failure, newfound love, growing fame and fortune, and gender positivity to parental loss, intimacy, and mental wellbeing. Starr blends R&B and Afropop with stylistic borrowings from Latin pop, Jamaican dancehall, Nigerian highlife, gospel, and more. “Dem never know I kala,” she sings on “Commas.” The phrase (a mixture of pidgin and Yoruba, which means being underestimated based on looks) shows a keenness for being accessible, a theme explored throughout the album. Combinations of languages and instrumentals abound, buoyed by disparate samples that include ’70s R&B, a field recording, and taped confessions from family members. Production was provided by notable hitmakers that include LONDON, P2J, P-Prime, and Starr’s brother and frequent songwriting collaborator, Milar. The main attraction, however, remains Starr’s singing voice, which has grown along with her stardom. “This album has made me who I am now,” she explains. “It was proper character development.” Here, she talks through the album, track by track. **“Birds Sing of Money”** “My brother, who is a music video director, paid a guy to just sing a Fuji song about me, which is in the beginning of ‘Birds Sing of Money.’ This was a day after I released my first EP, as a gift. And the guy was just hyping me up. That’s a very Yoruba thing.” **“Goodbye (Warm Up)” (with Asake)** “This is one of my favorite tracks I’ve ever recorded. Ever. Before I sent it to Asake, I wasn’t even sure if he was going to like the song. He was like, ‘OK Ayra, give me some time.’ He sent me his verse in two days. I was like, ‘Oh, this is sounding good.’” **“Commas”** “‘Commas’ is about how God has blessed me and I’m really grateful for where I am in life and where I’m about to go. I’m grateful for just even being present in this moment and being alive. I feel like that’s what has brought me here, my gratitude and the continuous hard work I will keep putting into this job. God is good.” **“Woman Commando” (with Anitta & Coco Jones)** “‘Woman Commando’ is such an Afrobeats/amapiano banger in a way, because of the log drums, and I wanted different perspectives. I’ve been watching Coco Jones since I was 12 on Disney’s *Let It Shine*. I sent her a different song, which she loved, but she was like, ‘Ayra, I want to be on your Afrobeats vibe,’ and I was like, ‘Say less.’ Anitta is such an amazing musician and I really just knew that I wanted to go for that Latin element. Her verse is perfect.” **“Control”** “Is relinquishing control the same as submission? It depends on how the listener, the audience wants to take it. The lyric goes: ‘I’m lit tonight/You know my lips lie.’ I want you to take control. I want you to be the man. Do your thing. It’s not really about submission, it’s more like I’m giving you hints—take control.” **“Lagos Love Story”** “‘Lagos Love Story’ is about being in a very happy state of mind. We have that moment where we are so happy, \[that\] it starts to feel wrong. It starts to feel like, ‘I feel guilty for being this happy.’ You kind of feel relieved when something bad happens, because you’re not used to that amount of happiness. That’s what the song is about: being in a very high state of happiness.” **“Rhythm & Blues”** “When I released ‘Rhythm & Blues’ \[in 2023\], I didn’t know if it was the right time. The headspace I was in was a lot of work. I remember recording this song for the first time and how beautiful it was. Also, there is a lyric that goes, ‘My jigga, my muse,’ which I wrote because you don’t expect girl singers to refer to a male love interest as a muse.” **“21”** “The first demo of ’21’ was a 21st birthday gift from a friend. Writing it, I was kind of stuck because I don’t really know how to write about myself. I’m really good at writing about other people and the TV shows I watch and movies I watch, but never myself. So this album was the first time I actually put myself out there and learned how to write by myself.” **“Last Heartbreak Song” (with GIVĒON)** “GIVĒON’s verse made me cry the first time I heard it; I was so happy. I’ve always wanted to see what we would sound like together, because we both have really low range. GIVĒON came with the most perfect perspective, because anybody that has been in an argument with a man, or any man that’s been arguing with a girl, would know \[that\] ‘Last Heartbreak Song’ is literally the dynamic.” **“Bad Vibes” (with Seyi Vibez)** “Translating Yoruba to English is so annoying sometimes because it doesn’t just hit the same in English. In the hook, the lyric in Yoruba means ‘Don’t poke me in my eye or don‘t hit me in my eye. I don’t break. I’m good.’ It’s an idiom, right? For the guest feature, I wanted a perspective from somebody that would understand what I was trying to do with the song. I felt like that with Seyi Vibez, we sound amazing together.” **“Orun”** “‘Orun’ is a highlife song and a juxtaposition of a puzzle of life. Highlife songs are usually known for being joyful and you want to dance to it. But with ‘Orun,’ it’s kind of different because I’m talking about mental health and depression.” **“Jazzy’s Song”** “I’ve been wanting to sample a Don Jazzy production \[Wande Coal’s 2009 single ‘You Bad (feat. D’banj)’\] for so long and I’m glad I did. The title ‘Jazzy’s Song’ shows my respect for him and how much I admire him as a person, as an artist, and as a musician.” **“1942” (with Milar)** “This song is introspective and so vulnerable. I’ve been working for so long, and for the first time in my life, I took a vacation on my birthday. I remember being in the pool with a bottle of 1942 tequila, and I was like, ‘Wow, this moment makes everything all worth it.’ After all the time we’ve put into this job, all the hard work, everything I’ve done, that moment of relaxing in that villa, overlooking the ocean, made everything worth it.” **“The Kids Are Alright”** “Turning 21 is a big \[moment\] and you start to notice things—like certain behavioral patterns are reflections of certain childhood trauma, or things that you’ve gone through in the past. I noticed that I had not really mourned the death and the loss of my father, and it was something I was holding at the back of my head.” **“Santa” (with Rvssian & Rauw Alejandro)** “I’ve been a big fan of Rvssian for so long, and we’ve been wanting to work \[together\] for so long. I recorded the verse and was made to sing in Spanish, literally. It’s so crazy that, once it drops, it becomes this global song, and I’m so happy.”

“Genres are a funny little concept, aren’t they?” Linda Martell cackles at the beginning of “SPAGHETTII.” Perhaps the name Linda Martell isn’t a household one, which only proves her point. She was the first Black woman to perform at the Grand Ole Opry, but her attempt to move from soul and R&B into the realm of country in the 1960s was met with racist resistance—everything from heckling to outright blackballing. Beyoncé knows the feeling, as she explained in an uncharacteristically vulnerable Instagram post revealing that her eighth studio album was inspired by a deep dive into the history of Black country music following an experience where she felt similarly unwelcome. *COWBOY CARTER* is a sprawling 80-minute tribute not only to those pioneering artists and their outlaw spirit, but to the very futility of reducing music to a single identifying word. Another key quote from that post: “This ain’t a country album. This is a Beyoncé album.” It’s more than a catchy slogan; anyone looking for mere honky-tonk cosplay is missing a much richer and more complex point. Listening in full to Act II of the presumed trilogy Bey began with 2022’s *RENAISSANCE*, it’s clear that the perennial overachiever hasn’t merely “gone country,” she’s interrogating what the word even means—and who merits the designation. On “AMERIICAN REQUIEM,” in a voice deep and earthy as Texas red dirt, the Houston native sings, “Used to say I spoke too country/And then the rejection came, said I wasn’t country enough.” She nods again, as she’s done before on songs like “Formation,” to her family ties to Alabama moonshiners and Louisiana Creoles. “If that ain’t country,” she wonders, “tell me what is.” With subtlety and swagger, she contextualizes country as an offshoot of the Black American musical canon, a storytelling mode springing from and evolving alongside gospel and blues. Over the wistful pedal steel and gospel organ of “16 CARRIAGES,” she tells you what it’s like to be a teenage workhorse who grows into an adult perfectionist obsessed with ideas of legacy, with a bit of family trauma buried among the riffs. On “YA YA,” Beyoncé expands the scope to rock ’n’ roll at its most red-blooded and fundamental, playing the parts of both Ike and Tina as she interpolates The Beach Boys and slips in a slick Playboi Carti reference, yowling: “My family lived and died in America/Good ol’ USA/Whole lotta red in that white and blue/History can’t be erased.” A Patsy Cline standard goes Jersey club mode on “SWEET ★ HONEY ★ BUCKIIN’,” with a verse from the similarly genre-flouting Shaboozey and a quick note regarding *RENAISSANCE*‘s Grammy fortunes: “AOTY I ain’t win/I ain’t stuntin’ ’bout them/Take that shit on the chin/Come back and fuck up the pen.” Who but Beyoncé could make a crash course in American music history feel like the party of the year? There’s the one-two punch of sorely needed summer slow-dance numbers: the Miley Cyrus duet “II MOST WANTED,” with its whispers of Fleetwood Mac, followed by “LEVII’S JEANS” with Post Malone, the “in those jeans” anthem filling the radio’s Ginuwine-shaped hole. *RENAISSANCE*’s euphorically nasty house bounce returns, albeit with more banjo, on “RIIVERDANCE,” where “II HANDS II HEAVEN” floats on clouds of ’90s electronica for an ode to alternately riding wild horses and 24-inch spinners on candy paint. (Houston, Texas, baby!) There are do-si-do ditties, murder ballads, daddy issues, whiskey kisses, hungover happy hours, cornbread and grits, Beatles covers, smoke breaks, and, on “DAUGHTER,” what may or may not be a wink in the direction of the artist who won AOTY instead. There’s also a Dolly-approved Beyoncification of “Jolene,” to whom the protagonist is neither saying please nor begging on the matter of taking her man. (“Your peace depends on how you move, Jolene,” Bey purrs, ice in her veins.) Is this a genre-bucking hoedown? A chess move? A reckoning? A requiem? If anyone can pull it off, it’s *COWBOY CARTER*, as country as it gets.

Billie Eilish has always delighted in subverting expectations, but *HIT ME HARD AND SOFT* still, somehow, lands like a meteor. “This is the most ‘me’ thing I’ve ever made,” she tells Apple Music’s Zane Lowe. “And purely me—not a character.” An especially wide-ranging and transportive project, even for her, it’s brimming with the guts and theatricality of an artist who has the world at her feet—and knows it. In a tight 45 minutes, Eilish does as she promises and hits listeners with a mix of scorching send-ups, trance excursions, and a stomping tribute to queer pleasure, alongside more soft-edged cuts like teary breakup ballads and jaunts into lounge-y jazz. But the project never feels zigzaggy thanks to, well, the Billie Eilish of it all: her glassy vocals, her knowing lyrics, her unique ability to make softness sound so huge. *HIT ME* is Eilish’s third album and, like the two previous ones, was recorded with her brother and longtime creative partner FINNEAS. In conceptualizing it, the award-winning songwriting duo were intent on creating the sort of album that makes listeners feel like they’ve been dropped into an alternate universe. As it happens, this universe has several of the same hallmarks as the one she famously drew up on her history-making debut, 2019’s *WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO?*. In many ways, this project feels more like that album’s sequel than 2021’s jazzy *Happier Than Ever*, which Eilish has said was recorded during a confusing, depressive pandemic haze. In the three years since, she has tried to return to herself—to go outside, hang out with friends, and talk more openly about sex and identity, all things that make her feel authentic and, for lack of a better word, normal. “As much as *Happier Than Ever* was coming from this place of, like, \'We\'re so good. This sounds so good,\' it was also not knowing at all who I was,’” she tells Apple Music. FINNEAS agrees, calling it their “identity crisis album.” But *HIT ME HARD AND SOFT* is, she says, the reverse. “The whole time we were making it, we were like, \'I don\'t know if I\'m making anything good, this might be terrible…’ But now I\'m like, \'Yeah, but I\'m comfortable in who I am now.\' I feel like I know who I am now.” As a songwriter, Eilish is still in touch with her vulnerabilities, but at 22, with a garage full of Grammys and Oscars, they aren’t as heavy. These days it’s heartache, not her own insecurities, that keeps her up at night, and the songs are juicier for it. “LUNCH,” a racy, bass-heavy banger that can’t help but hog the spotlight, finds Eilish crushing so hard on a woman that she compares the hook-up to a meal. “I’ve said it all before, but I’ll say it again/I’m interested in more than just being your friend,” she sings. The lyrics are so much more than lewd flirtations. They’re also a way of stepping back into the spotlight—older, wiser, more fully herself. Read below as Eilish and FINNEAS share the inside story behind a few standout songs. **“LUNCH”** BILLIE: “One of the verses was written after a conversation I had with a friend and they were telling me about this complete animal magnetism they were feeling. And I was like, ‘Ooh, I\'m going to pretend to be them for a second and just write...and I’m gonna throw some jokes in there.’ We took ourselves a little too seriously on *Happier Than Ever*. When you start to embrace cringe, you\'re so much happier. You have so much more fun.” **“BIRDS OF A FEATHER”** BILLIE: “This song has that ending where I just keep going—it’s the highest I\'ve ever belted in my life. I was alone in the dark, thinking, ‘You know what? I\'m going to try something.’ And I literally just kept going higher and higher. This is a girl who could not belt until I was literally 18. I couldn\'t physically do it. So I\'m so proud of that. I remember coming home and being like, ‘Mom! Listen!’” **“WILDFLOWER”** BILLIE: “To me, \[the message here is\] I\'m not asking for reassurance. I am 100% confident that you love me. That\'s not the problem. The problem is this thing that I can\'t shake. It’s a girl code song. It\'s about breaking girl code, which is one of the most challenging places. And it isn’t about cheating. It isn’t about anything even bad. It was just something I couldn’t get out of my head. And in some ways, this song helped me understand what I was feeling, like, ‘Oh, maybe this is actually affecting me more than I thought.’ I love this song for so many reasons. It\'s so tortured and overthinky.” **“THE GREATEST”** BILLIE: “To us, this is the heart of the album. It completes the whole thing. Making it was sort of a turning point. Everything went pretty well after that. It kind of woke us back up.” FINNEAS: “When you realize you\'re willing to go somewhere that someone else isn\'t, it\'s so devastating. And everybody has been in some dynamic in their life or their relationship like that. When you realize that you\'d sacrifice and wear yourself out and compromise all these things, but the person you\'re in love with won’t make those sacrifices, or isn’t in that area? To me, that\'s what that song is about. It\'s like, you don\'t even want to know how lonely this is.” **“L’AMOUR DE MA VIE”** FINNEAS: “The album is all about Billie. It\'s not a narrative album about a fictional character. But we have always loved songs within songs within songs. Here, you\'ve just listened to Billie sound so heartbroken in ‘THE GREATEST,’ and then she sings this song that\'s like the antibody to that. It’s like, ‘You know what? Fuck you anyway.’ And then she goes to the club.” **“BLUE”** “The first quarter of ‘BLUE’ is a song Finneas and I made when I was 14 called ‘True Blue.’ We played it at little clubs before I had anything out, and never \[released it\] because we aged out of it. Years went by. Then, for a time, the second album was going to include one additional song called ‘Born Blue.’ It was totally different, and it didn’t make the cut. We never thought about it again. Then, in 2022, I was doing my laundry and found out ‘True Blue’ had been leaked. At first I was like ‘Oh god, they fucking stole my shit again,’ but then I couldn\'t stop listening. I went on YouTube and typed ‘Billie Eilish True Blue’ to find all the rips of it, because I didn\'t even have the original. Then it hit us, like, ‘Ooh, you know what\'d be cool? What if we took both of these old songs, resurrected them, and made them into one?’ The string motif is the melody from the bridge of ‘THE GREATEST,’ which is also in ‘SKINNY,’ which starts the album. So it also ends the album.”

Bryson Tiller exploded onto the scene in 2015 with the release of his viral, atmospheric track “Don’t” from his debut album, *T R A P S O U L*. Since then, the Louisville crooner has established himself as an R&B hitmaker and go-to collaborator with his 2017 sophomore LP True to Self and 2020’s *A N N I V E R S A R Y*, as well as linking up on tracks with Rihanna, DJ Khaled, Kiana Ledé, and many more. Although Tiller tends to take a bit of a hiatus between projects, he’s ready to reintroduce himself and show the world what he’s capable of. Tiller has always been known to toe the blurry line between singing and rapping. Here, the Grammy-nominated star blends elements of R&B, dancehall, pop, drill, hip-hop, and more throughout the album’s 19 tracks. Executive produced by Tiller and Charlie Heat, *Bryson Tiller* invites listeners into a world where genre boundaries are not only crossed but reimagined in vignettes of his love life—whether he’s saying goodbye to an ungrateful lover (“Ciao!”), dealing with the heartache from a failed relationship (“Random Access Memory \[RAM\]),” “Peace Interlude”), or enjoying the bliss of a newfound relationship (“Find My Way,” “No Thank You,” “Prize”).

Carín León\'s voice is a torrent, both sweet and fierce, so it’s fitting that he keeps naming his albums after his mouth. While 2023\'s *Colmillo De Leche* evokes the image of biting teeth, *Boca Chueca, Vol. 1* is about the punches he’s taken that have helped him propel regional Mexican music into an undeniable global force. This project reveals his bad habits, the language he learned on the street, and the essence of who he is. He croons, “Perdona por ser como soy” (“Sorry for being the way I am”), in the gospel-tinged closer “Despídase bien,” but this record makes no apologies. He considers these 19 tracks to be the products of his flaws: “Things that happen to you throughout life, they’re related to you,” he tells Apple Music. “They’ve helped me to carry on living my life the way I like to live it, and, most importantly, to do a lot of healing through my own music.” From the outset, with “Cuando la vida sea trago,” the Hermosillo, Sonora, native cheekily admits that he was always the one giving his mother gray hairs thanks to his ambition and temper. These same traits have led him to where he is today, enabling collaborations with Mexican icons like Pepe Aguilar and Panteón Rococó as well as country and R&B stars like Kane Brown and Leon Bridges, imbuing the album with a texture that resonates on both sides of the Rio Grande. Below, he tells the stories behind some of the songs on *Boca Chueca, Vol. 1*. **“Frené mis pies”** “I’m a huge fan of the songs by my friend, composer Alejandro Lozano, and I loved this tune from the moment I heard it. I like the theme of the lyrics, and his use of language. It has a bohemian component, and the meaning is visceral. Drowning your sorrows in tequila, drowning them in Bacanora, like we say in my hometown. Those guitar licks that switch between rock ’n’ roll and the blues evoke the sounds of a bar, and that’s exactly what we wanted to achieve here: a great bar story, right?” **“No sé” (feat. Panteón Rococó)** “Panteón is a major reference point for Mexican music at an international level, especially within the rock scene, which continues to grow in strength and which I love to give my support. This album proposes a return to those sounds, with plenty of guitars and the classic rock vibe—boosted, of course, by the presence of a great band like Panteón Rococó. This song is my take on cumbia, and the connection that exists between all those different genres belonging to the same family: rumba flamenca from Spain, a little bit of salsa, and then the specific brand of cumbia from the south of Sonora, reflecting the connection between Guamúchil and Navojoa. I explore all those sounds, and then include a guitar solo that brings Santana to mind. All those influences shaped me as a kid, and now I can incorporate them into a single track.” **“Lamentablemente” (feat. Pepe Aguilar)** “Pepe’s music has been a huge inspiration. Considering everything that he has been doing for such a long time, I believe he is a major reference point. This song is informed by his sounds, and the different sonic paths that he carved as he introduced new horizons to the genre. Being able to record with him was a natural, as I have a deep knowledge of his songbook. I know his style, and I love working with him.” **“Aviso importante” (feat. Bolela)** “Quite often, artists are too busy trying to find that elusive hit, or obsessing about collaborating with the star of the moment. My only departure point has always been a desire to make good music. It’s the only goal that motivates me, and I’m proud to have recorded this track with my good friend Diego Bolela. He embodies the right direction to follow for Latin music. I love his version, and because the song is his, he has a clear grasp of how this particular story should be told. We’re experiencing a musical renaissance of sorts, and artists like Bolela will have a huge impact on Mexican music.” **“Aunque tú no lo sepas”** “I love this cover. I keep revisiting baladas and romantic music in all my records. I’m a fan of those slow tempos and the way in which this kind of music can give you chills. No matter what kind of a cover you may attempt to record, the lyrics of ‘Aunque tú no lo sepas’ are enough to move you to tears, regardless of who’s singing. I wanted to record my own version.” **“Despídase bien”**⁠ “Unless I’m mistaken, we were in Madrid, because it was Latin Grammy week. I remember we went to record a feature with Arcángel that is still unreleased, and it was then that my good friends KEITYN and Edgar Barrera showed us ‘Despídase bien’ and ‘Casi oficial,’ which is also on the album. The outro is actually a segment from another song, a bonus track called ‘Con La Misma Espina,’ a song that’s steeped in folklore and reminds me of my grandfather and the music that I listened to when I was growing up—my first taste of regional Mexican. But it also has the kind of lyric that takes on a new meaning in your personal life as the years go by. The implication is that music knows no boundaries—everyone tells their story in their own idiosyncratic way.”

Carly Pearce’s fourth studio album opens with an admission: “Country music made me do it, and I’ll do it till I die.” The award-winning singer-songwriter goes on to list a string of “its,” including taking it “way too far” and letting “the wrong boy” kiss her. Of course, it’s those very moments that Pearce so deftly documents, establishing herself as a major songwriting force in the genre with her evocative, often gut-wrenching accounts of hard times and heartache. On *hummingbird*, there is no shortage of such moments, though this follow-up to 2021’s *29: Written in Stone* feels sonically lighter and more spacious than its predecessors, a vibe hinted at by the record’s delicate title. Pearce co-produced the LP alongside Shane McAnally and Josh Osborne, marking her first time in a producing role. Standouts include “things I don’t chase,” a slow-burn torch song for “the stubborn kind” of man Pearce just “don’t chase,” as well as the head-over-heels infatuation of “trust issues.” Chris Stapleton joins Pearce on the aching duet “we don’t fight anymore,” a ballad about a love whose spark is long burnt out. And Pearce closes the project with its title track, an image-rich accounting of memories that linger and haunt.

It’s no surprise that “PARTYGIRL” is the name Charli xcx adopted for the DJ nights she put on in support of *BRAT*. It’s kind of her brand anyway, but on her sixth studio album, the British pop star is reveling in the trashy, sugary glitz of the club. *BRAT* is a record that brings to life the pleasure of colorful, sticky dance floors and too-sweet alcopops lingering in the back of your mouth, fizzing with volatility, possibility, and strutting vanity (“I’ll always be the one,” she sneers deliciously on the A. G. Cook- and Cirkut-produced opening track “360”). Of course, Charli xcx—real name Charlotte Aitchison—has frequently taken pleasure in delivering both self-adoring bangers and poignant self-reflection. Take her 2022 pop-girl yet often personal concept album *CRASH*, which was preceded by the diaristic approach of her excellent lockdown album *how i’m feeling now*. But here, there’s something especially tantalizing in her directness over the intoxicating fumes of hedonism. Yes, she’s having a raucous time with her cool internet It-girl friends, but a night out also means the introspection that might come to you in the midst of a party, or the insurmountable dread of the morning after. On “So I,” for example, she misses her friend and fellow musician, the brilliant SOPHIE, and lyrically nods to the late artist’s 2017 track “It’s Okay to Cry.” Charli xcx has always been shaped and inspired by SOPHIE, and you can hear the influence of her pioneering sounds in many of the vocals and textures throughout *BRAT*. Elsewhere, she’s trying to figure out if she’s connecting with a new female friend through love or jealousy on the sharp, almost Uffie-esque “Girl, so confusing,” on which Aitchison boldly skewers the inanity of “girl’s girl” feminism. She worries she’s embarrassed herself at a party on “I might say something stupid,” wishes she wasn’t so concerned about image and fame on “Rewind,” and even wonders quite candidly about whether she wants kids on the sweet sparseness of “I think about it all the time.” In short, this is big, swaggering party music, but always with an undercurrent of honesty and heart. For too long, Charli xcx has been framed as some kind of fringe underground artist, in spite of being signed to a major label and delivering a consistent run of albums and singles in the years leading up to this record. In her *BRAT* era, whether she’s exuberant and self-obsessed or sad and introspective, Charli xcx reminds us that she’s in her own lane, thriving. Or, as she puts it on “Von dutch,” “Cult classic, but I still pop.”

When it comes to manifesting, Dua Lipa is, well, radically optimistic about its power. And with good reason. “I know this is going to sound mad, but when I was writing my first album, I was having thoughts about my third album,” she tells Apple Music’s Zane Lowe. “I thought by the third album, I would maybe be deserving of working with Tame Impala. *Currents* \[Tame Impala’s career-defining 2015 album\] was the record that completely shook me.” With *Radical Optimism*—the follow-up to 2020’s impeccable, superstar-confirming *Future Nostalgia*, and the next note after her 2023 *Barbie* smash “Dance the Night”—Lipa got her wish. The 11 tracks here were made with Tame Impala’s Kevin Parker, as well as Tobias Jesso Jr. (the singer-songwriter Adele has labeled her “secret weapon”), OG PC Music artist Danny L Harle (PinkPantheress, Caroline Polachek), and Lipa’s long-term collaborator Caroline Ailin, co-writer of “New Rules.” It’s not the *most* obvious team for a chart-dominating name like Lipa to recruit, but maybe there was radical optimism in that, too. Plus, the proof came in the first song they wrote together: A moodier sister to *Future Nostalgia* standout “Hallucinate,” “Illusion” is an indisputable banger that feels tailor-made for Lipa’s 2024 Glastonbury headline set (something else she manifested for her third album). “It was like, ‘OK, how are we all going to connect together in the room? How is it all going to work?’” says Lipa. “\[‘Illusion’\] really kicked us off. When we wrote that song, it just gave us confidence as a group.” Like *Future Nostalgia*, *Radical Optimism* pulls from the past, so you can expect shimmering synths, groove-laden basslines, nods to psychedelia, and plenty of ’80s production (Lipa has also cited the adventurousness of both Britpop and Massive Attack among the album’s spiritual influences). But the singer-songwriter wanted to “experiment and do something different” as well, and in place of *Future Nostalgia*’s polished nu-disco, *Radical Optimism* often embraces an organic, golden-pop feeling with bright acoustic guitars, pianos, roomy drums, handclaps, and the occasional panpipe, plus some skyscraping vocals that should stop anyone describing Lipa’s vocal style as “nonchalant” again (see: “Falling Forever”). All of which is set against Lipa’s most personal writing to date, fueled by reflections on heartbreak, singledom, the arresting experience of meeting someone you might just give your heart to, and realizing the person you once loved has moved on. “With this album, I feel like I’ve managed to put so much more honesty out there and be really open in a way that I don’t think I’ve ever had the chance to,” she says. “It was a beautiful experience to not be afraid.” That was helped, again, by the team around her. “You come into the room, you’re hanging out with your friends, and you’re just having a tell-all,” she says. “There was absolutely no holds barred. They knew everything that was happening. There was no judgment. The fact that everyone felt free to just be themselves is what, I think, created such a beautiful energy in the room.” The singer-songwriter *gets* heartbreak pop; after all, she’s made a whole career out of crafting sharp, post-breakup empowerment anthems (and you’ll hear her trademark up-front lyricism here, such as on “Training Season,” in which she declares, “Are you somebody who can go there?/’Cause I don’t wanna have to show ya”). But here, Lipa also favors acceptance and a heartening sense of hope. Perhaps the album’s most powerful moment comes at its end, when Lipa realizes her ex has moved on and experiences an unfamiliar feeling: just happiness that they’re happy. “It feels like a full 180,” she says of closing track “Happy for You,” a song she admits she couldn’t have written until this point in her career. “Maturing, seeing almost my ghost on the other side and being like, ‘Wow, you’ve grown so much from an experience to be able to see things from that perspective. You have to be in the act of forgiveness and growing and learning and being OK with the past in order to move on. For me, ‘Happy for You’ is a beautiful, happy song because it’s so reflective of my journey.” You might say the same about “Maria,” in which Lipa salutes a new partner’s ex for making them who they are today. “I’m better, too, from the ones that I’ve lost/Now he is everything I’d ever want,” she sings. “I wanna thank you for all that you’ve done.” Working through these stories has been “a form of therapy” for Lipa, but she always kept two things in mind: what her songs mean to other people and how they might land at Glastonbury, which the singer-songwriter calls “the pinnacle.” “I think about emotions and feelings and thoughts. How does this make me feel? How will this make someone else feel when they hear it? What is the energy and the emotion and the thing that I’m trying to convey at this point in my life?” For Lipa, the answer seems to be in this album’s title. “What \[this album\] was really about was the theme, which was ‘radical optimism,’” she says. “It’s this idea of rolling with the punches, of not letting anything get you down for too long. I’ve always seen the positive side of things, of being able to grow and move forward and change your perspective regardless of what’s happening in your life—whether it’s heartbreak, whether it’s a friendship, whether it’s a relationship, whether it’s just growing and seeing things differently. I think it’s a big part of maturing.” When *Future Nostalgia* came out in 2020, just as the global pandemic set in, the album met the moment in a way Lipa could never have foreseen. It became a vehicle for escapism—another kind of radical optimism in a locked-down world. It seems that, for Lipa, *Radical Optimism* was about meeting *her* moment—the point she began working with the collaborators she’d always dreamed of, on songs made to perform on the most important stage she can think of. And now, she can draw a line under everything she needed this album to help heal. “Now, I’m done. This chapter is done,” she says. “I did so much growing. I feel like that is my exorcism.”

“I manifested this moment in my career,” Eladio Carrión tells Apple Music. “I\'m the kind of person who finds it hard to hit pause and celebrate milestones because I\'m always on to the next big thing.” Following the success of 2023’s *3MEN2 KBRN* and the corresponding Sauce USA headlining tour, there was plenty for the rapper to be happy about. Dedicated to his mother, his follow-up album *Sol María* diverges considerably from the familiar trap-heavy sound of what came earlier. It showcases more of him, both artistically and personally, and plays with decidedly poppier styles. “This album is the most intimate piece I\'ve shared with my fans,” Carrión says. Touching on topics close to him, its contents include some revelatory material that provides insights into who he is as a person. He tackles the tricky subject of mental health on “Luchas Mentales” and pays deep homage to his parents on “Mamá’s Boy.” Even the guest list—which includes Arcángel, De La Ghetto, and Rauw Alejandro—is scaled back compared with prior efforts, a reflection of the intimacy and immediacy of the material. “It was important for me that they not only brought their own talents, but also resonated with the essence of the album,” he explains. Below, read an interview with Carrión, in which he discusses *Sol María* and what it means to him. ***Sol María* represents a very different sound for you. For those who know you as a trapero, can you explain why you moved away from that style here?** This album is a heartfelt tribute to my mom, Sol María. While she can still vibe with the trap scene, this project is like a musical bouquet of appreciation and diving into those genres that she resonates with more. It’s my way of expressing gratitude and giving her the recognition she deserves for everything. We kept the trap energy alive, but my main focus was to take this album and use it as a special thank-you to my biggest supporter. **There’s a lot of very personal material here, not the least of which being “Mamá’s Boy.” What was it like for you to put these experiences and emotional honesty into your music?** Pouring my heart into \"Mamá’s Boy\" was hard. It\'s not easy to be so vulnerable, laying bare personal experiences like that. But at the same time, it\'s a testament to the authenticity I strive for in my music. \"Mamá’s Boy\" goes into that deep connection I have with my mom, and the process was like opening up a diary. I\'m incredibly fortunate to have both of my parents alive and by my side as I navigate these new chapters in life. Knowing that they’ll always be there for me adds this layer of strength and support while I pursue my dream, and I hope it resonates with others who feel the same way. **You’ve kept the guest list here to a relatively small circle. Is there a reason why you limited the number of features?** Choosing the guest list for *Sol María* was a meticulous process, because this is what I consider my best album to date. It\'s a deeply personal project, and I wanted every artist involved to be a careful representation of the music that shaped me during my upbringing and those I\'m vibing with currently. **Are there any tracks here that were especially rewarding or particularly gratifying to record?** \"Luchas Mentales\" holds a special place because it allowed me to open up about my own struggles with mental health, so it was a deeply cathartic experience. It goes beyond just music; it\'s a way for me to connect with fans who may be facing similar challenges. I hope that when they listen to this track, they feel a sense of comfort and understand that they\'re not alone in their struggles. It’s my way of reaching out to those who may need a reminder that they’ll overcome any obstacles and come out even stronger on the other side.

Meeting a native in Nashville is rare. Music City famously attracts aspiring musicians and songwriters from far and wide, so much so that “where are you from?” is typically the first question asked upon meeting someone new. ERNEST is one of those unicorn locals, and his sophomore record is titled accordingly. Following the success of 2023’s *FLOWER SHOPS (THE ALBUM): Two Dozen Roses*, *NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE* is another sprawling display of ERNEST’s quirky, friendly ambition, offering a little something for everyone across the growing spectrum of country fans. The record opens with “I Went to College / I Went to Jail,” a clever and delightful collaboration with fellow 615 native Jelly Roll. Trading verses, ERNEST covers the college half of the narrative—he studied sociology before dropping out and eventually pursuing music—while Jelly Roll laments life behind bars. “Who came out on top?” they ask playfully, and there’s no clear answer. Other highlights include the Chris Stapleton co-write “You Don’t Have to Die,” a frank and surprising glimpse at heartbreak-fueled depression, and a cover of Radiohead’s “Creep” with fellow all-caps country iconoclast HARDY. There’s an equally unexpected cover of John Mayer’s 2006 *Continuum* standout “Slow Dancing in a Burning Room,” which plays well as an aching country ballad. ERNEST keeps the rest of the guest list stacked, tapping Lainey Wilson, Lukas Nelson, and more to join him on the project.

“It\'s the continuation, a new type of era for us after *El Comienzo*,” Grupo Frontera’s Juan Javier Cantú tells Apple Music about the band’s first album since their 2023 breakthrough. “It\'s a different style,” adds percussionist Julian Peña Jr., “a different side of Frontera that hasn\'t come out yet that we knew we had it in us.” The tremendous success of 2023 hits like “un x100to” with Bad Bunny and “EL AMOR DE SU VIDA” with Grupo Firme left this Texan músicana mexicana act in a great position to grow. The resulting *JUGANDO A QUE NO PASA NADA* reflects how far they’ve come in rapidly growing their fanbase without sacrificing the sound they’ve developed with established hitmaker Edgar Barrera. “There\'s people in the younger generation that don\'t go to Mexico, they don\'t speak Spanish, but they have that cultural tie,” says vocalist and bajo quinto player Adelaido “Payo” Solís III. “What we decided to do is put all these different genres that the younger generation could find their style, and their genre, and what they want to listen to in Spanish without having to go out and find it somewhere else.” In the interim between projects, Grupo Frontera gained valuable real-world experience collaborating with a multigenerational range of Latin music talents, from Shakira to Peso Pluma. Over the course of these 12 tracks, they strategically limited the guests to just four, each one helping to broaden their genre scope and tighten their proverbial chops. “We were really extra picky with this one,” Peña says. “We wanted to make sure what we put in the album was going to be good enough that we all liked it and that we knew that people were going to like it.” Read on to learn more about some of the songs on *JUGANDO A QUE NO PASA NADA*—in Grupo Frontera’s own words. **“POR QUÉ SERÁ?” (feat. Maluma)** Adelaido \"Payo\" Solís III: “We have a lot of experiences working with other artists, but working with Maluma was definitely one of the best experiences. His vibe is just so different, so genuine, so energetic. We were in Miami. Edgar, our songwriter and producer, told us Maluma was in town. He was like, ‘I\'m on my way. Just send me the address. I\'m already leaving the house.’ I remember Maluma brought some of his tequila or mezcal to the studio and he let us try it. We were just hanging out.” **“DESQUITE” (feat. NICKI NICOLE)** Solís: “In Mexico, there was this certain sound of music going around for a little bit called trival. When Edgar showed us this song, we heard it and we were like, ‘This is the type of music that people can dance to. It is going to go crazy in certain areas, in the clubs or just to dance to.’ We were at an awards show, and the day before the awards, NICKI NICOLE was doing an interview and they had asked her, ‘What artists would you like to meet during these awards?’ She said Grupo Frontera. After our presentation, we saw her again and we started talking about the song.” **“ME HIZO UN FAVOR”** Julian Peña Jr.: “Honestly, we\'re fans of all types of music. I think Frontera works out great because not a single one of us listens to the same thing; we all have our different tastes. We just wanted to come together and do one big collaboration of what we all liked and loved. That\'s where that one came from. Payo was the most excited to release that one because that one was one of the ones he liked the most out of the album.” **“LOS DOS” (feat. Morat)** Solís: “It was a full-circle moment. We started our career with ‘No Se Va,’ which is a cover of their song. They invited us to a concert they had in San Antonio last year so that we could sing the song together, because we\'re really strong in Texas. Honestly, we became really good friends with them. We went to Bogotá, Colombia, we hung out with them. They wrote the song for us. They\'re such great artists and such great musicians that they put their certain touches in certain areas of the song where we just knew it belonged. It was just an amazing experience, being able to connect with them in that way.” **“ECHÁNDOTE DE MENOS”** Solís: “We act like nothing\'s going on, but in reality we\'re thinking inside. Basically, we put on a face on the outside and that\'s where the happy music comes from. But if you listen, all the lyrics is either \'I miss you\' or \'you broke my heart.\' That\'s how we want people to identify everything.” **“NO SÉ QUÉ PASÓ”** Solís: “Going to our country side, we wanted to do something on that end that’s still talking about a broken heart. The meaning \[is\] that ‘I don\'t know what changed between you and me, but something is definitely wrong. I can tell that you\'re not the same with me. I know that this is about to end.’ Since we started out, we realized that people started to like us and like our music because of everything that was being related. So we have to keep that relatability.”

It’s understandable if Gunna feels a bit isolated these days. For some two years now, the Georgia-bred rapper has been on the defensive—first, when he was indicted in a sweeping YSL Records RICO case and, subsequently, in the time since his release by the feds. “I’m still fighting,” he tells Apple Music. “I still got friends incarcerated, and I’m still growing, too and getting massive.” Indeed, amid the sly whispers and outright accusations levied against him in hip-hop’s court of public opinion, he nonetheless managed to maintain both his commercial viability and star status with 2023’s *a Gift & a Curse*. That earned him one of the biggest singles of his career in “fukumean,” which, like the rest of the album, eschewed features and put the spotlight squarely upon himself. “It’s a bittersweet moment for me,” he admits. Nearly one year later, he returns with *One of Wun*, another defiant and largely solo testament to his endurance in the face of genuine adversity. Opener “collage” seems to take stock of his current situation, dismissing those who wish he’d retire or otherwise quit the rap game. From there, Gunna faces down opposition with impeccable drip while reveling in the lifestyle he’s become accustomed to, conflating matters on “whatsapp (wassam)” and the title track. From his perspective, professional jealousy and rumor-mongering are no match for his swag. “I’m wearing clothes differently now,” he says of his sartorial aesthetic, which comes up not infrequently throughout the project. “It’s not just about the name. It’s more like really where it come from or the cut of it.” Unlike on *a Gift & a Curse*, a few guests do stop by to show support. Gunna and Offset go way back to the *Drip Season 2* days, making their reunion on “prada dem” all the more momentous. Another repeat collaborator, Roddy Ricch comes through for “let it breathe,” a sleek and moody rebuttal to the haters.

IDLES’ fifth album is a collection of love songs. For singer Joe Talbot, it couldn’t be anything else. “At the time of writing this album, I was quite lost,” he tells Apple Music. “Not musically, it was a beautiful time for music. But emotionally, my nervous system needed organizing, and I needed to sort my shit out. So I did. That came from me realizing that I needed love in my life, and that I had sometimes lost my narrative in the art, which is that love is all I’ve ever sung about.” From a band wearied by other people’s attempts to pin narrow labels like “punk” or “political” to their expansive, thoughtful music, that’s as concise a summary as you’ll get. It’s also an accurate one. The Bristol five-piece’s music has always viewed the world with an empathetic eye, processing the human effects and impulses around subjects as varied as grief, immigration, kindness, toxic masculinity, and anxiety. And on their fourth album, 2021’s *CRAWLER*, the aggression and sinew of earlier songs gave way to more space and restraint as Talbot turned inward to reckon with his experiences with addiction. For *TANGK*, that experimentation continued while the band’s initial ideas were developed with Radiohead producer Nigel Godrich in London during late 2022, before the record was completed with *CRAWLER* co-producer Kenny Beats joining the team to record in the south of France. They’ve emerged with an album where an Afrobeat rhythm played out on an obscure drum machine (“Grace”) or a gentle piano melody recorded on an iPhone (“A Gospel”) hit with as much impact as a gale-force guitar riff (“Gift Horse”). Exploring the thrills and the scars of love in multiple forms, Talbot leans ever more into singing over firebrand fury. “I’ve got a kid now, and part of my learning is to have empathy when I parent,” he says. “And with that comes delicacy. To use empathy is a delicate and graceful act. And that’s coming out in my art, because I’m also being delicate and graceful with myself, forgiving myself, and giving myself time to learn. I don’t want to lie.” Discover more with Talbot’s track-by-track guide to *TANGK*. **“IDEA 01”** “It was the first thing \[guitarist and co-producer Mark\] Bowen worked on, and Bowen, being the egotistical maniac that he is, called it ‘IDEA 01’ because he forgot that it was actually idea seven. But, bless him, he does like attention. But, yes, it was the first song that was written in Nigel’s studio. Bowen sat at the piano and started playing, and it was beautiful. ‘IDEA 01’ is different vignettes around old friends that I haven’t seen since Devon \[where Talbot grew up\], and the relationships I had with them and their families, and how crazy certain people’s families are. Bowen’s beautiful piano part reminded me of this song we wrote on the last album, ‘Kelechi.’ Kelechi was a good friend of mine who sadly passed away, and I hadn’t seen him since I waved him off to move to Manchester with his family. I just had this feeling I was never going to see him again. Maybe I’m writing that in my head now, but he was a beautiful, beautiful man. I loved him. I think maybe if we were still friends, part of me could have helped him, but that’s, again, fantasy I think.” **“Gift Horse”** “I was trying to get this disco thing going, so I gave Jon \[Beavis, drummer\] a bunch of disco beats to work on. And Dev \[bassist Adam Devonshire\] is bang into The Rapture and !!! and LCD Soundsystem, and he turned out that bassline real quick. I wrote a song around it, and it felt great. It was what my intentions of the album were: to make people dance and not think, because love is a very complex thing that doesn’t need to be thought. It can just be acted, and worked on, and danced with. I just wanted to make people move, and get that physicality of the live experience in people’s bones. I had this concept of a gift horse as a theme of a song, and it sang to me. I like that grotesque phrase, ‘Never look a gift horse in the mouth.’ It’s about my daughter, and I’m very grateful for her, and our relationship, and I wanted to write a beast of a tune around her.” **“POP POP POP”** “I read \[‘freudenfreude’\] online somewhere. It was like, words that don’t exist that should exist. Schadenfreude is such a dark thing, to enjoy other people’s misery, so the idea of someone enjoying someone else’s joy is great. Being a parent, you suddenly are entwined with someone else’s joys and lows. I love seeing her dance, and have a good time, and grow as a person, and learn, so I wanted to write a song about it.” **“Roy”** “It’s an allegorical story that sums up a lot of my behavior towards my partners over a 15-year period where I was in a cycle of absolute worship and then fear, jealousy and assholery. I wanted to dedicate it to my girlfriend, who I call Roy. She’s not called Roy. I wanted it to be about the idea of a man who is in love and then his fears take over, and he starts acting like a prick to push that person away. Then he wakes up in the morning with a horrible hangover, realizing what he’s done, and he apologizes. He is then forgiven in the chorus, and rejoicing ensues.” **“A Gospel”** “It’s a reflection on breakups, which I think are a learning curve. I think all my exes deserve a medal, and they’ve taught me a lot. It’s really a tender moment of a dream I used to have, then \[it\] dances between different tiny memories, tiny vignettes of what happened before, and me just giving a nod to those moments and saying goodbye, which is beautiful. No heartbreak, really. I’ve been through the heartbreak now. It’s just me smiling and being like, ‘Yeah, you were right. Thank you very much.’” **“Dancer” (with LCD Soundsystem)** “The best form of dance is to express yourself freely within a group who are also expressing themselves freely, the true embodiment of communion. The last time I had this sense of euphoria from that was an Oh Sees gig at the \[Sala\] Apolo in Barcelona. I closed my eyes and let the mosh push me from one side of the room to the other and back. I didn’t open my eyes once, I just smiled and was carried by this organism of beautiful rage. Dancing’s a really big part of my personality. I love it. My mum always danced. Even in her most ill days \[Talbot’s mother passed away during the recording of 2017 debut *Brutalism*\], she would always get up and dance, and enjoy herself. I dance with my daughter every day that I have her. I think it’s magic and important.” **“Grace”** “It all came out of nowhere. I had this beat in mind for a while—I was thinking of an aggro Afrobeat kind of track. But it didn’t come out like that. It came out like what happens when Nigel Godrich gets his hands on your Afrobeat stuff. I asked Nigel to make the beat, and he chose the LinnDrum \[’80s drum machine\]. The LinnDrum changes the sound of a beat, the tone of a drum, the cadence of a beat, it changed the beat completely. It’s a very, very delicate thing, a beat. It sounded like a different song to me. It sounded amazing. And that’s where the bassline came from. And then that’s where the vocals came from. It felt a bit uneasy for a long time because it came out of nowhere. Me and Bowen were like, ‘Is this right? Is this complete?’ I think it just has to feel like you, like it is part of you and what you mean at the moment, that’s all. An album’s an episode of where you’re at in the world in that point in time.” **“Hall & Oates”** “I wanted to write a glam-rock pounder about falling in love with your boys. My ex and I used to joke about this thing where you make love to someone for the first time, and then the next day, you’re walking on air, and it feels like Hall & Oates is playing. The birds are singing, you’re bouncing around and everything’s great. I wanted to use that analogy for when you make friends with someone for the first time, and they make you feel good, lighter, stronger, excited to see them again. And that’s what happened in lockdown: I made friends with \[Bristol-based singer-songwriter\] Willie J Healey and my mate Ben, and we went on bike rides whenever we could, getting out and feeling good post-lockdown. It gave me a sense of purpose again. It felt like I was falling in love.” **“Jungle”** “I was trying to write a jungle tune for ages. The guitar line was a jungle bassline that I had but it just never fit what we were writing. And then Bowen started playing the chords on the guitar and it transformed it into something completely different. It completely revitalized what I’d been dragging through the mud for five years. Bowen made it IDLES, made it real, made it believable, made it beautiful. And then it reminded me of getting nicked, so I wrote a song about different times that I’ve been in trouble.” **“Gratitude”** “This was a real struggle. Bowen was really obsessed about doing interesting counts with the beats. I just wanted to make people dance and create infectious beats. We were coming from very different angles, but we loved this song that Bowen had made. I was like, ‘I get it, Bowen. This is insane. I love it, but I can’t get it.’ We hung on to it for ages, and then Nigel really helped us out, he created spaces and bits here and there by turning things down and moving everything slightly. Then Kenny helped me out, and got rid of the stupid counts, I think, and helped me write it on a 4/4 beat. And then they changed it back. I just come in in weird places. Everyone chipped in, because everyone believed in the song.” **“Monolith”** “I was fascinated by films where four or five notes are repeated throughout and create this monolithic motif. There’s a sense of continuity but the mood changes depending on certain things like tone and instruments. I wanted to do that over a song, and we got our friend Colin \[Webster\] from \[London noise rock unit\] Sex Swing to do the sax, we did it on different instruments that Nigel had. Nigel went away and basically put it all through the hollow-body bass. It reminded me of a documentary from a series called *The Blues* that Martin Scorsese curated. *The Soul of a Man* \[directed by Wim Wenders\] is about a song \[Blind Willie Johnson’s ‘Dark Was the Night’\] getting sent into space. If any aliens get this capsule, they’ll hear this song being played from a blues artist. It created a really beautiful and deep picture in my mind. It felt like this monolith drifting in the ether. I started singing a blues riff behind it, a Skip James kind of thing. I think it’s a beautiful way to finish the album—us drifting in the ether.”

It was instant bromance when Xavier de Rosnay and Gaspard Augé met at a house party in early-2000s Paris: two young French graphic designers who loved good old American rock ’n’ roll. What they lacked in technical expertise, they made up for in taste—and not exactly the “good taste” of the French artists du jour. “When we started, French house music was really about precision, and we arrived and had no idea what we were doing,” de Rosnay tells Apple Music’s Zane Lowe. To the world of groovy French filter house, the duo known as Justice brought AC/DC energy, punishing distortion, and a giant neon cross that towered over Marshall speaker stacks at their famously wild live shows. Three studio albums, three live albums, and two Grammys later, the Justice boys have traded their skintight leather jackets for sharply tailored suits, but though the songs on their fourth album, *Hyperdrama*, are generally less punishing than early eardrum-destroyers like “Waters of Nazareth” or “Stress,” the duo have yet to lose their edge. Eight years after their last studio release, 2016’s unprecedentedly tender *Woman*, Augé and de Rosnay return to the tensions that animated their 2007 debut. “\[Contrast\] has been the motor of what we do since the beginning, because there is some kind of radicality and violence that we love in electronic music, and we are also blue-eyed soul and yacht rock fans.” On *Hyperdrama*, saccharine disco and blistering electronics don’t just coexist—they duke it out, often within the same track, as on “One Night/All Night,” whose stomping beat tugs against plaintive vocals from Tame Impala’s Kevin Parker. “Generator” nods to the brutalism of their early hits, the sax-forward “Moonlight Rendez-vous” evokes the camp of George Michael’s “Careless Whisper,” and “Dear Alan” (named for French electronic legend Alan Braxe) is the kind of blissful filter house they once stood out from like two leather-clad sore thumbs. The duo’s songwriting has aged like fine French wine, but as always, they lead with their gut. “Really often we find that decisions in production and engineering are on the side of style and sensation more than, ‘Does it sound perfect by the standards of hi-fi?’” Augé explains. “If the good thing is that thing that was ripped 10 times and is so downgraded that it has this sort of bitcrush and glow to it, then we should go for that.”

“My Saturn has returned,” the cosmic country singer-songwriter proclaimed to announce her fifth album (apologies to *A Very Kacey Christmas*), *Deeper Well*. If you’re reading this, odds are you know what that means: About every 30 years, the sixth planet from the sun comes back to the place in the sky where it was when you were born, and with it, ostensibly, comes growth. At 35, the chill princess of rule-breaking country/pop/what-have-you has caught up with Saturn and taken its lessons to heart. OUT: energy vampires, self-sabotaging habits, surface-level conversations. IN: jade stones, moon baths, long dinners with friends, listening closely to the whispered messages of the cosmos. (As for the wake-and-bake sessions she mentions on the title track—out, but wistfully so.) Musgraves followed her 2018 breakthrough album, the gently trippy *Golden Hour*, with 2021’s *star-crossed*, a divorce album billed as a “tragedy in three parts,” where electronic flourishes added to the drama. On *Deeper Well*, the songwriter’s feet are firmly planted on the ground, reflected in its warm, wooden, organic instrumentation—fingerpicked acoustic guitar, banjo, pedal steel. Here, Musgraves turns to nature for the answers to her ever-probing questions. “Heart of the Woods,” a campfire sing-along inspired by mycologist Paul Stamets and his *Fantastic Fungi* documentary, looks to mushroom networks beneath the forest floor for lessons on connectivity. And on “Cardinal,” a gorgeous ode to her late friend and mentor John Prine in the paisley mode of The Mamas & The Papas, potential dispatches from the beyond arrive as a bird outside her window in the morning. As Musgraves’ trust in herself and the universe deepens, so do her songwriting chops. On “Dinner With Friends,” a gratitude journal entry given the cosmic country treatment, she honors her roots in perfectly sly Musgravian fashion: “My home state of Texas, the sky there, the horses and dogs, but none of their laws.” And on the simple, searching “The Architect,” she condenses the big mysteries of human nature into one elegant, good-natured question: “Can I pray it away, am I shapeable clay/Or is this as good as it gets?”

Whether singing in Spanish or in English, Kali Uchis continually proves herself to be a versatile performer. Following 2020’s *Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios)* and its hit single “telepatía,” the Colombian American singer eventually boasted that she had two more albums, one in each language, more or less at the ready, the first being 2023’s soulful *Red Moon in Venus* and the next being *ORQUÍDEAS*. With lyrics primarily (though not exclusively) in Spanish, she delivers an exquisite pop-wise R&B set here, one replete with clubby highs and balladic depth. The dance floor is well served with cuts like “Me Pongo Loca” and “Pensamientos Intrusivos,” her ethereal vocals elevating them further. The collaborations reflect her journey as well as her status, as she links with superstar KAROL G on the polished perreo throwback “Labios Mordidos” and música mexicana sensation Peso Pluma for the romantic duet “Igual Que Un Ángel.” On “Muñekita,” she bridges her two worlds with the aid of Dominican dynamo El Alfa and City Girls rapper JT, who combine to produce an irresistible dembow moment.

“There\'s something about this record that feels like I\'m coming home,” Maggie Rogers tells Apple Music\'s Zane Lowe about her third full-length *Don\'t Forget Me*, which is the Maryland-born singer-songwriter\'s first project since completing her master\'s degree in religion and public life at Harvard Divinity School. Being away from the music business, she says, allowed her time to think about her life as an artist while also diversifying her mind. “I was trying to put so much in music,” she says. “Now my life is a lot more balanced and a lot more full—and I\'m not saying by any means I have it figured out.” *Don\'t Forget Me* finds Rogers still on a path toward “figuring it out,” marrying the kineticism that made her breakthrough single “Alaska” such a sensation eight years prior with bigger sonic structures and wiser lyrics. Opener “It Was Coming All Along” thrums with plush synths and strings, as well as a sampled phone call that brings Rogers\' lyrics about “trying to be brave these days” to life. “The Kill” possesses a grandness that recalls a sunny drive on an open road, which makes its story of a doomed relationship hit even harder. That energy, together with a wiser perspective, enabled her to her explore stories from beyond her personal realm. Take “So Sick of Dreaming,” a sauntering, Nashville-tinged cut about the travails of twentysomething life punctuated by a frustrated monologue about being stood up for Knicks tickets. (“And by the way, the Knicks lost,” she dryly notes.) It\'s based on “a story that a friend had told to me the night before about another friend of hers that was going through this thing,” she says. “I never would\'ve thought it was material; I had only written songs about things that were so personal to me.” Broadening her songwriting is another way Rogers lets loose on *Don\'t Forget Me*—and it\'s apparent across the album\'s 10 songs, which are confident even when they\'re grappling with regret and frustration. “I\'m so focused and clear about the things that I want, and I\'ve had different goals for every record or things that I really want to accomplish,” Rogers says. “The goal on this album cycle is, I\'m trying to have fun. And if I don\'t think it\'s going to be fun, you probably won\'t find me there.”

More than a decade removed from his 2013 self-titled debut, Jahron Anthony Brathwaite—aka PARTYNEXTDOOR—remains an enigma in the OVO ecosystem: He takes several years between album releases and makes few live appearances, while his elusive reputation is intensified by the fact that some of the biggest moments of his career have come as a behind-the-scenes writer for artists like Rihanna. But his first album in four years represents the purest statement of purpose we’ve heard from the Toronto R&B auteur. If *PARTYNEXTDOOR 4*’s NSFW cover art doesn’t make his intentions clear, then the album’s very first lyric—“Take off your clothes”—instantly thrusts you into the boudoir where many of these songs play out, with foggy keyboard tones wafting in like incense and trap beats flickering like candlelight. But PARTYNEXTDOOR is a certified lover boy keenly attuned to the destabilizing dynamics inherent to desire: After making the aforementioned request for disrobing on the opening “C o n t r o l,” he asks, “Who is in control?”—reframing his bedroom conquest as an act of surrender. Even his most salacious admissions project a certain ecstatic innocence: The Auto-Tuned devotional “L o s e M y M i n d” is possibly the most rapturous song ever written about enjoying a threesome on molly, while the dreamy “M a k e I t T o T h e M o r n i n g” renders mutual oral sex as a near-religious experience. But *PARTYNEXTDOOR 4* does more than merely celebrate his X-rated exploits: The awestruck “R e a l W o m a n” suggests he’s looking for a relationship that goes beyond sunrise, while the downcast closing duo of “F a m i l y” and “R e s e n t m e n t” tap a deeper emotional vein to reveal the hang-ups that come with the hookups.

The cover artwork for Peggy Gou’s debut album features the South Korean DJ/producer wearing a mirrored headpiece that creates kaleidoscopic reflections of her ears. The piece, an aural sculpture by Olafur Eliasson, is an artful interpretation of Gou’s view that “everybody wants to be heard.” Years after crashing dance music’s radar in the late 2010s with shimmering tracks “It Makes You Forget (Itgehane)” and “Starry Night,” she found crossover success in 2023 when her sunny single “(It Goes Like) Nanana” went viral. *I Hear You* welcomes more people to Gou’s party utopia. It straddles the line between mainstream and underground, pairing the sleek production heard spilling from smoky nightclubs and Ibiza terraces with song-structured vocals. “(It Goes Like) Nanana,” “I Go,” and “Back to One” are effortlessly cool yet earnest, communicating messages of positivity, perseverance, and staying true to oneself atop ’90s dance rhythms. R&Balearic serenade “I Believe in Love Again” with Lenny Kravitz continues the throwback influence with a classic organ bassline, followed by Villano Antillano collaboration “All That,” which samples Kevin Lyttle’s 2003 song “Turn Me On.” Beyond the summer anthems, the album occasionally gets experimental, swerving into drum ’n’ bass with a side of traditional Korean instrument gayageum on “Seoulsi Peggygou (서울시페기구)” and drifting through hazy acid breakbeats on “Purple Horizon.” Of all the sounds in Gou’s technicolor palette, her best instrument is her breezy voice, with which she delivers simple yet irresistible hooks in English and Korean. That she’s had hits in both languages is proof of music’s universal nature. As she sings in the latter on “Lobster Telephone,” “I know you don’t understand this/But it doesn’t matter/It’s all the same/We’re all the same.”

As the leader of Korean superstar group BTS, rapper-producer RM (aka Kim Nam-joon) is not always free to follow his musical curiosities or to explore deeply personal experiences. When he writes, records, and performs within BTS, he is doing it as part of a larger group, and the sacrifices that come with that are made in favor of something more collective. But RM has much to say as an artist outside of his BTS persona, and in the first 11 years of the group’s career, he has found the space to say it, releasing his own solo material in the form of two mixtapes (2015’s *RM* and 2018’s *mono.*), a 2022 solo album debut (*Indigo*), and now *Right Place, Wrong Person*. While *Indigo* was a vulnerable reflection back on RM’s twenties, *Right Place, Wrong Person* is somehow even more raw in its sounds and sentiments. The 11-track album is a diary-like study of healing wounds (“I just hope you remember me/The best grave in your cemetery”) and hard-won liberations (“I like my broken self/Bitch, that\'s the shit”) delivered in eddies of spoken-word verse, husky vocals, and RM’s signature lyrical rap. Pre-release track “Come back to me” acted as a disclaimer of what was to come. A slow-burn exhale of a song, the six-minute track about RM’s desire to understand his suffering (“You are my pain, divine, divine”) is an antithesis to the two-and-a-half-minute, hook-focused tracks that dominate so much of modern music. RM is similarly experimental in the hypnotic mood-setter “Right People, Wrong Place” and “ㅠㅠ,” a 74-second musing seemingly about the fans who come to his shows: “Do you stay inside or go off to life?/I\'m so grateful for everyone\'s time/Hope you all had such wonderful night.” As with *Indigo*, RM finds room to collaborate on *Right Place, Wrong Person*. French American jazz duo DOMi & JD BECK produce the percussive-driven “?,” while American singer-songwriter Moses Sumney features heavily on the groovy “Around the world in a day.” British rapper Little Simz contributes two verses to the jazzy “Domodachi,” which bounces between English, Korean, and Japanese to ask listener-friends to let loose: “Just ignite this bonfire/Friends gather around me one by one.” The uptempo “Groin” sees the leader of BTS breaking out of some of the boxes fame has put him in, working to accept the moments he has “fucked it up”: “I only represent myself/Let’s say what we have to say before we get sick and die.” “LOST!” is similarly energetic and blithe in its celebration of life’s confusions, positioning RM’s disorientation not as something to be feared but embraced: “I\'m goddamn lost/I never been to club before/I hit the club/I never felt so free before.” Here and elsewhere on the album, the eponymous “wrong person” doesn’t seem to be another individual, but rather a description of self. But with this music-making, the hope of something “right” seems to be on the horizon—if not here yet, then coming: “Time flies, he’s 14 and he’s already 30/And I look up in the sky, I see silver cloud/Yo, hurry.”

A Top Dawg Entertainment fixture since the early 2010s, ScHoolboy Q played no small role in elevating the label to hip-hop’s upper echelon. With his Black Hippy cohorts Kendrick Lamar, Ab-Soul, and Jay Rock, the tremendously talented Los Angeles native made a compelling case for continuing the West Coast’s rap legacy well beyond the G-funk era or the days of Death Row dominance. Even still, his relative absence from the game after *CrasH Talk* dropped in 2019 has been hard to ignore, particularly as the most prominent member of his group departed TDE while SZA became the roster’s most undeniable hitmaker. Indeed, it’s been nearly five years since he gave us more than a loosie, which makes the arrival of his sixth full-length *BLUE LIPS* all the more auspicious. His concerns as a lyricist draw upon the micro as well as the macro level, as a parent decrying mass school shootings on “Cooties” or as a rap star operating on his own terms on “Nunu.” Elevating the drama, the *Saw* soundtrack cue nods of “THank god 4 me” accent his emboldened bars targeting snitches, haters, and fakes. Q’s guest selection reflects a more curatorial ear at work than the gratifying star-power flexes found on *CrasH Talk*. Rico Nasty righteously snarls through her portion of the menacing “Pop,” while Freddie Gibbs glides across the slow funk groove of “oHio” with scene-stealing punchlines. A producer behind TDE records by Isaiah Rashad and REASON, Devin Malik steps out from behind the boards to touch the mic on a handful of cuts, namely “Love Birds” and the booming paean “Back n Love.”

If runaway smashes like “Pound Town,” “SkeeYee,” and “Get It Sexyy” told us anything about St. Louis MC Sexyy Red, it’s that the *Hood Hottest Princess* trades in anthems. Nearly exclusively. Her *In Sexyy We Trust* mixtape hardly deviates from the plan, delivering even more anthems extolling the allure of the Sexyy Red lifestyle. Across the tape, we hear Red rap about upholding a particular standard of courtship (“Boss Me Up”), the joys of puppy love (“U My Everything”), how hard she goes in the streets (“Ova Bad”), and also the very precise sexual maneuvers she enjoys (“Lick Me,” “Awesome Jawsome”). The bulk of it is delivered over charging Tay Keith production, which will make fans excited to shout back lyrics at her during an unknowable number of Rolling Loud sets. Red’s work here is enough to make guest appearances from Drake and Lil Baby seem like an afterthought, but they, too, very obviously recognize an aspiring hitmaker when they hear one.

Shaboozey has long been inspired by the romantic notion of the outlaw: “The guy who’s standing against a whole bunch of folks and it’s like, ‘We’re going to take them down.’ Yeah, you can try!” the musician tells Apple Music’s Kelleigh Bannen. The obsession is less quaint than it sounds. Having pored through old western films, dime-store pulp novels, and gunslinger ballads à la Marty Robbins, the Virginia native noticed that old-school cowboy culture and hip-hop share a preoccupation with all things American renegade. The conversation around country music’s Black roots will sound familiar to anyone who tuned in to Beyoncé’s *COWBOY CARTER*, which featured Shaboozey on two tracks. (“Beyoncé’s been such a big part of being Black in America,” he said, still in awe of the opportunity. “At every point in our lives, she has had some sort of cultural impact.”) But the 29-year-old singer/rapper has been staking his territory in the space between hip-hop and country for a decade, redefining what it means to be a modern country star. His third album, *Where I’ve Been, Isn’t Where I’m Going*, plays out like a classic American road movie, opening with steel guitar, the gallop of horse hooves, and Shaboozey with his foot on the gas, fresh out of smokes and headed nowhere in particular. On tracks like “Let It Burn,” his rich baritone is equal parts Willie, Waylon, and woozy blues rap à la Future. Elsewhere, he channels Imagine Dragons’ arena-ready roots rock, where breakup banger “Annabelle” hits the sweet spot between Fleetwood Mac and Post Malone. But the star-making moment is “A Bar Song (Tipsy),” the breakaway hit of 2024’s Stagecoach Festival: a Southern-fried riff on a 20-year-old J-Kwon club classic with TGIF vibes.

“Pain makes you more humane,” Shakira tells Apple Music. “Being able to take that pain and transform it into something else, that is an opportunity and a luxury that us artists have.” Assuredly, the Latin-pop superstar’s romantic and professional woes in recent years have been significant, often converted into cruel tabloid fodder that, no doubt, amplified the issues and surrounding emotions. Yet with *Las Mujeres Ya No Lloran*, her first new album in nearly seven years, she transforms the numbingly dull lead of personal hardship into a glorious musical gold. “In a way, it’s kind of good not to have a husband,” Shakira says of the impact her breakup had on her creativity. “Now I feel like working. It’s a compulsive need of mine that I didn’t feel before.” Even before the album emerged, that compulsion came through clearly and eventfully with the release of singles like the award-winning “Shakira: Bzrp Music Sessions, Vol. 53,” showing the world that she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind during trying times. “No one should tell any woman how she’s supposed to heal and lick her wounds.” *Las Mujeres Ya No Lloran* exemplifies that sentiment. As expected, given her prior hits, she retains a mastery of the dance floor with the benefit of autobiographical lyricism. Here, she provides such expertly executed versions as the Bizarrap-assisted “La Fuerte” and the emotionally potent “Tiempo Sin Verte.” One of many successors to Shakira’s bilingual pop lineage, Cardi B joins for the opener “Puntería,” a sweat-inducing track dripping with erotically charged metaphors. More than willing to branch out beyond what her legacy already holds, she also demonstrates just how integral she’s become to the modern reggaetón landscape, lending her cosign to Manuel Turizo on “Copa Vacía” and finding a kindred spirit in KAROL G on “TQG.” Far more surprising are her successful forays into other genres represented throughout the album, namely the música mexicana team-ups “(Entre Paréntesis)” with Grupo Frontera and “El Jefe” with Fuerza Regida, as well as the brisk bachata cut “Monotonía” with Ozuna. Still, Shakira hasn’t forgotten her long-standing rock listenership, bringing energy and grace to the cathartic “Cómo Dónde y Cuándo.” Similarly, her balladry remains exemplary, the revelatory messages of “Acróstico (Milan y Sasha)” and “Última” obviously driven by her experiences and in response to these challenges. Ultimately, against all odds, she emerges from this album with a sense of hope and optimism. “Love is the most amazing experience a human can live, and no one should take away that opinion from you,” she says. “It doesn’t matter the shitty experiences you go through in life; there’s always a lot more to look forward to.”

Few artists have done more for carrying the banner of guitar rock proudly into the 21st century than St. Vincent. A notorious shredder, she cut her teeth as a member of Sufjan Stevens’ touring band before releasing her debut album *Marry Me* in 2007. Since then, her reputation as a six-string samurai has been cemented in the wake of a run of critically acclaimed albums and collaborations (she co-wrote Taylor Swift’s No 1. single “Cruel Summer”). A shape-shifter of the highest order, St. Vincent, aka Annie Clark, has always put visual language on equal footing with her sonic output. Most recently, she released 2021’s *Daddy’s Home*, a conceptual period piece that pulled inspiration from ’70s soul and glam set in New York City. That project marked the end of an era visually—gone are the bleach-blonde wigs and oversized Times Square-ready trench coats—as well as creatively. With *All Born Screaming*, she bids adieu to frequent collaborator Jack Antonoff, who produced *Daddy’s Home*, and instead steps behind the boards for the first time to produce the project herself. “For me, this record was spending a lot of time alone in my studio, trying to find a new language for myself,” Clark tells Apple Music’s Hanuman Welch. “I co-produced all my other records, but this one was very much my fingerprints on every single thing. And a lot of the impetus of the record was like, ‘Okay: I\'m in the studio and everything has to start with chaos.’” For Clark, harnessing that chaos began by distilling the elemental components of what makes her sound like, well, her. Guitar players, in many respects, are some of the last musicians defined by the analog. Pedal boards, guitar strings, and pass-throughs are all manipulated to create a specific tone. It’s tactile, specialized, and at times, yes, chaotic. “What I mean by chaos,” Clark says, “is electricity actually moving through circuitry. Whether it\'s modular synths or drum machines, just playing with sound in a way that was harnessing chaos. I\'ve got six seconds of this three-hour jam, but that six seconds is lightning in a bottle and so exciting, and truly something that could only have happened once and only happened in a very tactile way. And then I wrote entire songs around that.” Those songs cover the spectrum from sludgy, teeth-vibrating offerings like “Flea” all the way to the lush album cut (and ode to late electronic producer SOPHIE) “Sweetest Fruit.” Clark relished in balancing these light and dark sounds and sentiments—and she didn’t do so alone. “I got to explore and play and paint,” she says. “And I also luckily had just great friends who came in to play on the record and brought their amazing energy to it.” *All Born Screaming* features appearances from Dave Grohl, Warpaint’s Stella Mozgawa, and Welsh artist Cate Le Bon, among others. Le Bon pulled double duty on the album by performing on the title track as well as offering clarity for some of the murkier production moments. “I was finding myself a little bit in the weeds, as everyone who self-produces does,” Clark says. “And so I just called Cate and was like, ‘I need you to just come hold my hand for a second.’ She came in and was a very stabilizing force, I think, at a time in the making of the record when I needed someone to sort of hold my hand and pat my head and give me a beer, like, ‘It\'s going to be okay.’” With *All Born Screaming*, Clark manages to capture the bloody nature of the human experience—including the uncertainty and every lightning-in-a-bottle moment—but still manages to make it hum along like a Saturday morning cartoon. “The album, to me, is a bit of a season in hell,” she says. “You are a little bit walking on your knees through some broken glass—but in a fun way, kids. We end with this sort of, ‘Yes, life is difficult, but it\'s so worth living and we\'ve got to live it. Can\'t go over it, can\'t go under it, might as well go through it.’ It\'s black and white and the colors of a fire. That, to me, is sonically what the record is.”

In the 18 months after Taylor Swift released *Midnights*, it often felt as though the universe had fully opened up to her. The Eras Tour was breaking records and blowing past the billion-dollar mark; its attendant concert film became the highest-grossing of all time. She generated interest and commerce and headlines everywhere she stepped foot, from tour stops to the tunnels of NFL stadiums. In 2023, she was named both *TIME* magazine’s Person of the Year and—just as iconic, tbh—Apple Music’s Artist of the Year. But do songs about that level of success speak to you? As the news broke that her highly private six-year relationship to Joe Alwyn had ended, Swifties started Swiftie-ing, quickly recirculating a clip on social media of Swift a few weeks earlier, onstage during an early Eras show, in tears as she sang “champagne problems”—a song she and Alwyn had written together. It was a reminder that, despite the superhero-like aura she now radiates, Swift, at her peak, still hurts like the rest of us. What sets her apart is her ability to sublimate that pain into pop. When she announced her 11th studio album in early 2024—while accepting another Grammy, as one does—we probably shouldn’t have been surprised. “I needed to make it,” she’d say of *THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT* a few weeks later, to a crowd of—\[rubs eyes\]—96,000 in Melbourne, Australia. “I’ve never had an album where I’ve needed songwriting more than I needed it on *TORTURED POETS*.” Working again with trusted collaborators Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner, she returns to the soft, comfortable, bed-like sonics of *Midnights*. But the stakes feel noticeably higher here: This isn’t so much a breakup album as it is a deep-sea exploration of everything Swift has been feeling, a plunge through emotional debris. On “But Daddy I Love Him”—over strings and guitar that faintly recall her country roots—she lashes out at the crush of scrutiny and expectation she’s been subject to from the start. Naturally, catharsis comes after the chorus: “I’ll tell you something right now,” she sings. “I’d rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning.” On “Florida!!!” she and Florence + the Machine team up for a pulpy escape fantasy wherein they Thelma and Louise their way down to the Sunshine State in hopes of starting over with new lives and identities: “Love left me like this,” they sing. “And I don’t want to exist.” At turns hilarious and heartbreaking, *TTPD* is a study in extremes, Swift leaning into heightened emotions with heightened, hyperbolic, ALL-CAPS language and imagery—how we think when we’re drunk on love or flattened by its sudden disappearance. Note the dark humor she weaves through the Post Malone-enriched opener “Fortnight” (“Your wife waters flowers/I wanna kill her”). Or the thrilling self-deprecation of “Down Bad,” a foray into science fiction wherein Swift likens the warmth of a relationship to being abducted by love-bombing extraterrestrials—only to be left “naked and alone, in a field in my same old town.” But this remains her most candid and unsparing work to date: As a listener, you frequently get the feeling that you’ve stumbled across emails she’d written but never sent, or into conversations you were never meant to hear. There’s a density and a specificity and a ferocity to her lyrical work here that makes 2012’s “All Too Well” feel sorta light by comparison. If you’re the kind of Swiftie who likes to live in the details, well, this one might be your Super Bowl. “You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues?” she asks on the devastating “So Long, London,” a high point. “I died on the altar waiting for the proof.” Alone at a piano on the haunting “loml,” she flips the script on someone who’d told her she was the love of their life, by telling them that they were the loss of hers: “I’ll still see it until I die.” The story, as you likely know, doesn’t end there. We get a glimpse of new beginnings in “The Alchemy” (“This happens once every few lifetimes/These chemicals hit me like white wine”) and something like triumph in the montage-ready synths of “I Can Do It With a Broken Heart,” when Swift, shattered on the floor, “as the crowd was chanting, ‘More!’,” still finds the strength to deliver: “’Cause I’m a real tough kid and I can handle my shit.” But we also get a sense of acceptance, of newfound perspective. On “Clara Bow”—named after a 1920s movie star who was able to survive the jump from silent film to sound—Swift reflects on the journey of a small-town girl made good, sung from the vantage of an industry obsessed with the next big thing. She zooms out and out and out until, in the album’s closing seconds, she’s singing about herself in the third person, in past tense, acknowledging that nothing is forever. “You look like Taylor Swift in this light, we’re loving it,” she sings. “You’ve got edge she never did/The future’s bright, dazzling.”

Almost six years after releasing her breakout single, 2018’s “Mr Rebel,” Nigerian superstar Tems delivers her debut LP, *Born in the Wild*. Of course, that interim has been characterized by a trajectory that’s trended upward at almost every turn. From her acclaimed 2020 debut EP *For Broken Ears* to global megahit collaborations with Wizkid (and later Justin Bieber) on “Essence” and Drake on “Fountains” to 2021’s sophomore EP, *If Orange Was a Place*, to appearances on 2022’s *Black Panther: Wakanda Forever* soundtrack (including songwriting credits for Rihanna’s “Lift Me Up”) and Beyoncé’s *RENAISSANCE* and a Grammy win for Future and Drake’s “Wait for U” in 2023—the alté-R&B star has experienced an almost exponential rise. That kind of journey is part of what makes *Born in the Wild* all the more captivating. Over 18 tracks, Tems cracks open her journal through those career highs, and reveals how the person behind them grappled with it all. “I had to step back a bit, to check in with myself,” Tems (Temilade Openiyi) tells Apple Music, “and also just find healing from all the trauma and everything I experienced before ‘Tems.’ I think I had to unlearn a lot of things. This album is just a new way of me expressing myself, while still centering who I am in it.” Here, she works through moments of feeling like an impostor, of rebuilding her self-confidence, of learning the ins and outs of relationships, and of learning to trust herself. Don’t read that as insecure, however—this is the journal of someone who’s done the work, and who’s fully ready to embrace the next chapter. It’s all brought to life through Tems’ usual brand of honest, mature storytelling—and here, as ever, the centerpiece remains a distinctive voice that simultaneously balances multiple layers of raw, delicate emotion and a natural, unforced ease. That reflective songwriting shows a sonic maturity that’s unrestricted by genre: She traverses from R&B (“Burning”) to fusions of Afrobeats and amapiano (“Get It Right”), balanced with celebrations of culture and heritage, like her reimagined version of Seyi Sodimu’s 1997 hit, the breezy “Love Me JeJe.” Below, Tems talks through these and more key tracks from *Born in the Wild*. **“Born in the Wild”** “‘Born in the Wild’ is a story of transformation from a cocoon to a butterfly. It speaks on surviving a mental wilderness that comes with life, and coming to a place where one can thrive. It\'s about accepting oneself, and embodying the woman I was born to be. It shows the different dimensions of who Tems is, and her journey from a cub to a lioness.” **“Burning”** “‘Burning’ is about the feelings I felt when I first started getting popular as Tems. I didn\'t really understand what was happening, and everything was happening so fast. And it\'s about me looking back on that time and realizing that we are all going through something. We all have our internal battles. We all have the things that we struggle with, our triggers. And ‘Burning’ is really about understanding that I have my triggers too, and now I know that I\'m not alone. And there\'s many people that have felt the way I do about not wanting to be seen, not really being used to attention, and people trying to take advantage of you in many different ways.” **“Love Me JeJe”** “‘Love Me JeJe’ is a sweet, happy song about finding unconditional love. The joy of finding a love that doesn\'t run out and not settling for anything else. Just basking in the sun, basking in that unconditional type of love.” **“Get It Right” (feat. Asake)** “This is just about a conversation between two people and one is saying, ‘I know you\'re scared, but if you do me right, I always got your back, because that\'s who I am.’ And it\'s just about two people feeling each other and wanting to explore more.” **“Unfortunate”** “‘Unfortunate’ is about realizing that the person that you put your trust in isn\'t worth your time. And also being thankful that the person showed themselves early, and the person disappointed you. And it\'s basically finding the good in the bad. This was a disappointment, but it is actually great that it was, because it means that I\'m winning, and I\'m going to overcome this, and I don\'t need to be with you anymore. It is a blessing that I\'m not obligated by any means to stay with you, and it\'s a blessing that I\'m not with you.” **“Forever”** “Forever is about the aftermath of a breakup, when the guy comes circling back, and it\'s coming from a place of healing, it\'s coming from a place of ‘I’ve moved on already, but it\'s interesting to see you scramble because I\'m moving on. It\'s the desperation for me from you. I love that you are so desperate to get me back you\'re always checking for me, stalking me, checking for what I\'m doing, and it\'s really intriguing and fascinating to see.’” **“Free Fall” (feat. J. Cole)** “This is about, after you fell in love with someone, they fell in love too. It was great until you realize that you both were new to it, and they didn\'t really know what to do in the relationship. It\'s about knowing, ‘If I stay, I\'m going to be drained,’ and knowing your limits and setting your boundaries. It\'s basically reflecting on all of that. Reflecting on the fact that I had to go, because if I didn\'t go, it would have been detrimental.” **“Me & U”** “‘Me & U’ is about reconnecting with God. It\'s a new conversation. It\'s about reconnecting with your inner child and the truth. It\'s about now being honest with yourself about who you are, and about having faith that everything is going to be okay, as long as you believe.” **“You in My Face”** “‘You in My Face’ is a conversation with the inner me, the inner child, and it\'s about finding peace within, and also hoping that I don\'t get lost again.”

“We weren’t really expecting it at such a rate,” The Last Dinner Party’s guitarist and vocalist Lizzie Mayland tells Apple Music of the band’s rise, the story of which is well known by now. After forming in London in 2021, the five-piece’s effervescent live shows garnered an if-you-know-you-know kind of buzz, which went into overdrive when they released their stomping, euphoric debut single “Nothing Matters” in April 2023. All of which might have put a remarkable amount of pressure on them while making their debut record (not least given the band ended 2024 by winning the BRITs Rising Star Award then topped the BBC’s new-talent poll, Sound of 2024, in January). But The Last Dinner Party had written, recorded and finished *Prelude to Ecstasy* three months before anyone had even heard “Nothing Matters.” It meant, says lead singer Abigail Morris, that they “just had a really nice time” making it. “It is a painful record in some ways and it explores dark themes,” she adds, “but making it was just really fun, rewarding, and wholesome.” Produced by James Ford (Arctic Monkeys, Florence + the Machine, Jessie Ware), who Morris calls “the dream producer,” *Prelude to Ecstasy* is rooted in those hype-inducing live shows, its tracklist a reflection of the band’s frequent set list and its songs shaped and grown by playing them on stage. “We wanted to capture the live feels in the songs,” notes Morris. “That’s the whole point.” Featuring towering vocals, thrilling guitar solos, orchestral instrumentation, and a daring, do-it-all spirit, the album sounds like five band members having an intense amount of fun as they explore an intense set of emotions and experiences with unbridled expression and feeling. These songs—which expand and then shrink and then soar—navigate sexuality (“Sinner,” “My Lady of Mercy”), what it must be like to move through the world as a man (“Caesar on a TV Screen,” the standout, celestial “Beautiful Boy”), and craving the gaze of an audience (“Mirror”), as well as loss channeled into art, withering love, and the mother-daughter relationship. And every single one of them feels like a release. “It’s a cathartic, communal kind of freedom,” says Morris. “‘Cathartic’ is definitely the main word that we throw about when we talk about playing live and playing an album.” Read on as Morris and Mayland walk us through their band’s exquisite debut, one song at a time. **“Prelude to Ecstacy”** Abigail Morris: “I was thinking about it like an overture in a musical. Aurora \[Nishevci, keys player and vocalist\] composed it—she’s a fantastic composer, and it has themes from all the songs on the record. I don’t believe in shuffle except for playlists and I always liked the idea of \[an album\] having a start, middle, and end, and there is in this record. It sets the scene.” **“Burn Alive”** AM: “This was the first song that existed in the band—we’ve been opening the set with it the entire time. Lyrically, it always felt like a mission statement. I wrote it just after my father passed away, and it was the idea of, ‘Let me make my grief a commodity’—this kind of slightly sarcastic ‘I’m going to put my heart on the line and all my pain and everything for a buck.’ The idea of being ecstatic by being burned alive—by your pain and by your art and by your inspiration—in a kind of holy-fire way. What we’re here to do is be fully alive and committed to exorcising any demons, pain or joy.” **“Caesar on a TV Screen”** AM: “I wrote the beginning of this song over lockdown. I’d stayed over with my boyfriend at the time and then, to go back home, he lent me a suit. When I met him, I didn’t just find him attractive, I wanted to *be* him—he was also a singer in another band and he had this amazing confidence and charisma in a specifically masculine way. Getting to have his suit, I was like, ‘Now I am a man in a band.’ It’s this very specific sensuality and power you feel when you’re dressing as a man. I sat at the piano and had this character in my head—a Mick Jagger or a Caligula. I thought it would be fun to write a song from the perspective of feeling like a king, but you are only like that because you’re so vulnerable and so desperate to be loved and quite weak and afraid and childlike.” Lizzie Mayland: “There was an ending on the original version that faded away into this lone guitar, which was really beautiful, but we got used to playing it live with it coming back up again. So we put that back in. The song is very live, the way we recorded it.” **“The Feminine Urge”** AM: “The beginning of this song was based on an unreleased Lana Del Rey song called ‘Driving in Cars With Boys’—it slaps. I wanted to write about my mother and the mother wound. It’s about the relationship between mothers and daughters and how those go back over generations, and the shared traumas that come down. I think you get to a certain age as a woman where your mother suddenly becomes another woman, rather than being your mum. You turn 23 and you’re having lunch and it’s like, ‘Oh shit, we’re just two women who are living life together,’ and it’s very beautiful and very sweet and also very confronting. It’s the sudden realization of the mortality and fallibility of your mother that you don’t get when you’re a child. It’s also wondering, ‘If I have a daughter, what kind of mother would I be? Is it ethical to bring a child into a world like this? And what wound would I maybe pass on to her or not?’” **“On Your Side”** LM: “We put this and ‘Beautiful Boy’—the two slow ones—together. Again, that comes from playing live. Taking a slow moment in the set—people are already primed to pay attention rather than dancing.” AM: “The song is about a relationship breaking down and it’s nice to have that represented musically. It’s a very traditional structure, song-verse-chorus, and it’s not challenging or weird. It’s nice that the ending feels like this very beautiful decay. It’s sort of rotting, but it sounds very beautiful, but it is this death and gasping. I really like how that illustrates what the song’s about.” **“Beautiful Boy”** AM: “I come back to this as one that I’m most proud of. I wanted to say something really specific with the lyrics. It’s about a friend of mine, who’s very pretty. He’s a very beautiful boy. He went hitchhiking through Spain on his own and lost his phone and was just relying on the kindness of strangers, going on this beautiful Hemingway-esque trip. I remember being so jealous of him because I was like, ‘Well, I could never do that—as a woman I’d probably get murdered or something horrible.’ He made me think about the very specific doors that open when you are a beautiful man. You have certain privileges that women don’t get. And if you’re a beautiful woman, you have certain privileges that other people don’t get. I don’t resent him—he’s a very dear friend. Also, I think it’s important and interesting to write, as a woman, about your male relationships that aren’t romantic or sexual.” LM: “The flute was a turning point in this track. It’s such a lonely instrument, so vulnerable and so expressive. To me, this song is kind of a daydream. Like, ‘I wish life was like that, but it’s not.’ It feels like there’s a deeper sense of acceptance. It’s sweetly sad.” **“Gjuha”** AM: “We wanted to do an aria as an interlude. At first, we just started writing this thing on piano and guitar and Aurora had a saxophone. At some point, Aurora said it reminded her of an Albanian folk song. We’d been talking about her singing a song in Albanian for the album. She went away and came back with this beautiful, heart-wrenching piece. It’s about her feeling this pain and guilt of coming from a country, and a family who speak Albanian and are from Kosovo, but being raised in London and not speaking that language. She speaks about it so well.” **“Sinner”** LM: “It’s such a fun live moment because it’s kind of a turning point in the set: ‘OK, it’s party time.’ I was quite freaked out about the idea of being like, ‘This is a song about being queer.’ And I thought, ‘Are people going to get that?’ Because it’s not the most metaphorical or difficult lyrics, but it’s also not just like, ‘I like all gendered people.’ But people get it, which has been quite reassuring. It’s about belonging and about finding a safe space in yourself and your own sense of self. And marrying an older version of yourself with a current version of yourself. Playing it live and people singing it back is such a comforting feeling. I know Emily \[Roberts, lead guitarist, who also plays mandolin and flute\] was very inspired by St. Vincent and also LCD Soundsystem.” **“My Lady of Mercy”** AM: “For me, it’s the most overtly sexy song—the most obviously-about-sex song and about sexuality. I feel like it’s a nice companion to ‘Sinner’ because I think they’re about similar things—about queerness in tension with religion and with family and with guilt. I went to Catholic school, which is very informative for a young woman. I’m not a practicing Catholic now, but the imagery is always so pertinent and meaningful to me. I just thought it was really interesting to use religious imagery to talk about liking women and feeling free in your sexuality and reclaiming the guilt. I feel like Nine Inch Nails was a really big inspiration musically. This is testament to how much we trust James \[Ford\] and feel comfortable with him. We did loads of takes of me just moaning into the mic through a distortion. I could sit there and make fake orgasm sounds next to him.” LM: “I remember you saying you wanted to write a song for people to mosh to. Especially the breakdown that was always meant to be played live to a load of people throwing themselves around. It definitely had to be that big.” **“Portrait of a Dead Girl”** AM: “This song took a long time—it went through a lot of different phases. It was one we really evolved with as a band. The ending was inspired by Florence + the Machine’s ‘Dream Girl Evil.’ And Bowie’s a really big influence in general on us, but I think especially on this one. It feels very ’70s and like the Ziggy Stardust album. The portrait was actually a picture I found on Pinterest, as many songs start. It was an older portrait of a woman in a red dress sitting on a bed and then next to her is a massive wolf. At first, I thought that was the original painting, but then I looked at it again and the wolf has been put in. But I really loved that idea of comparing \[it to\] a relationship, a toxic one—feeling like you have this big wolf who’s dangerous but it’s going to protect you, and feeling safe. But you can’t be friends with a wolf. It’s going to turn around and bite you the second it gets a chance.” **”Nothing Matters”** AM: “This wasn’t going to be the first single—we always said it would be ‘Burn Alive.’ We had no idea that it was going to do what it did. We were like, ‘OK, let’s introduce ourselves,’ and then where it went is kind of beyond comprehension.” LM: “I was really freaked out—I spent the first couple of days just in my bed—but also so grateful for all the joy it’s been received with. When we played our first show after it came out, I literally had the phrase, ‘This is the best feeling in the world.’ I’ll never forget that.” AM: “It was originally just a piano-and-voice song that I wrote in my room, and then it evolved as everyone else added their parts. Songs evolve by us playing them on stage and working things out. That’s definitely what happened with this song—especially Emily’s guitar solo. It’s a very honest love song that we wanted to tell cinematically and unbridled, that expression of love without embarrassment or shame or fear, told through a lens of a very visual language—which is the most honest way that I could have written.” **“Mirror”** AM: “Alongside ‘Beautiful Boy,’ this is one of the most precious ones to me. When I first moved to London before the band, I was just playing on my own, dragging my piano around to shitty venues and begging people to listen. I wrote it when I was 17 or 18, and it’s the only one I’ve kept from that time. It’s changed meanings so many times. At first, one of them was an imagined relationship, I hadn’t really been in relationships until then and it was the idea of codependency and the feeling of not existing without this relationship. And losing your identity and having it defined by relationship in a sort of unhealthy way. Then—and I’ve never talked about this—but the ‘she’ in the verses I’m referring to is actually an old friend of mine. After my father died, she became obsessed with me and with him, and she’d do very strange, scary things like go to his grave and call me. Very frightening and stalker-y. I wrote the song being like, ‘I’m dealing with the dissolution of this friendship and this kind of horrible psychosis that she seems to be going through.’ Now this song has become similar to ‘Burn Alive.’ It’s my relationship with an audience and the feeling of always being a performer and needing someone looking at you, needing a crowd, needing someone to hear you. I will never forget the day that Emily first did that guitar solo. Then Aurora’s orchestral bit was so important to have on that record. We wanted it to have light motifs from the album. That ending always makes me really emotional. I think it’s a really touching bit of music and it feels so right for the end of this album. It feels cathartic.”

“My life is what it is because of hip-hop, so making this love letter of an album was very important to me,” Trueno tells Apple Music. “I’ve belonged to this movement since I was in my mother’s womb. My ideals, my way of thinking and expressing myself are tied closely to the precepts of this culture.” From his first breakdancing moves in the Buenos Aires neighborhood of La Boca to his rise as one of Latin rap’s key MCs, Mateo Palacios always knew that his days would be defined by music. Hip-hop was not only the domain of his father, Uruguayan rapper MC Peligro, but it also formed the ideals that gave his life meaning. Now, he celebrates 50 years of hip-hop on *EL ÚLTIMO BAILE*, an album that dissects in four segments the many aspects of the culture, from its various forms of expression (graffiti, breakdance, turntablism, beatbox, streetwear, and rap) to its codes (language, street smarts, ideals, and entrepreneurial spirit), but also its influences and contributions to music. “The album also touches on the many genres—disco, jazz, and the blues—that enriched the sound of hip-hop, and references recent developments like trap and drill,” says Trueno. Here, he walks us through the four segments that make up his project. **First Segment: The ABC** “This initial group of songs includes ‘PLO PLO!,’ ‘TRANKY FUNKY,’ ‘NO CAP,’ and ‘THE ROOF IS ON FIRE.’ It addresses the era dominated by boom-bap. The message is radical, raw, and competitive. It’s the basis of rap, the very essence. These four tracks go to the core of the genre, like the ABC. Here you get to see Trueno the warrior, the confrontational Trueno that sums me up and embodies my artistic persona. It’s one of the ways in which I can express myself through music, and the aspect that I enjoy the most—I just love boom-bap. I started the album in this mode in order to infuse it with strength. This is what we do best, our signature style.” **Second Segment: The Roots** “This is the foundation: Jamaica, dancehall music, the roots and dub systems. We carry the speakers to the sidewalk, set up a mic, ask the DJ to hook up a pen drive and sing for my people—throw a block party. This is the precedent, and not paying tribute to the soul of this culture in a hip-hop record would have been disrespectful. I also wanted to delve into that sound because I’m a big fan of artists like Sean Paul, who actually guests on the album. I think that’s a beautiful thing. I also wanted to show the world that hip-hop is Latino as well. Two communities that contributed in equal measure to shaping the genre: people of Afro and Latin descent. People from both backgrounds live in the Bronx, and I feel more emphasis should be placed in the Latin contribution to the culture. There’s buck jump in ‘COMO ANTES,’ New Orleans mixed in with some murga—and also dembow, which stems from Jamaica and found fertile ground in other places, just like hip-hop itself.” **Third Segment: The Genesis** “An attempt to vindicate hip-hop’s formative years. The idea is traveling backwards, rewinding history and guiding people on a journey through different eras. ‘OHH BABY’ embodies disco music, Grandmaster Flash, ‘The Message’; the first commercial hip-hop tracks that were played on the radio and at parties. I love disco, funk, and the fusion of both. It’s the party side of rap. ‘CUANDO EL BAJO SUENA’ addresses the techno sound that arrived a bit later. ‘LA NOTA’ reflects electronica from 2010 onwards, while still vindicating the roots. I try to grasp the primordial aspects of this culture, bringing its beginnings to the present times so that people can know how it all started.” **Final Segment** “The last segment is actually one song, ‘RAIN III.’ All I can say is that this track represents the soul of Mateo. There’s the blues, and a single person—that would be me—talking to the world about his emotions. Exposing himself by showing his wounds, every single scar. I think that’s what makes an artist stronger. There’s nothing as powerful as telling the truth—revealing who we really are.”

“I\'ve always wanted to be a pop star, but beyond that, I wanted to be an African pop star,” Tyla tells Apple Music. “The roots of my sound are in amapiano music, in South African and African music.” Though the megaviral 2023 single “Water” may have put the South African singer-songwriter on the proverbial map—first as a social media sensation, then as the highest-charting African female soloist ever on Billboard’s Hot 100, earning her the inaugural Grammy Award for Best African Music Performance—she’s been carefully plotting her path to the top for years. “Since I started experimenting with amapiano, I just feel like it\'s really helped me get to this point where I created something that is fresh and new, but still familiar and comes from home,” she says. “It\'s a sound of Africa, and it\'s something that I couldn\'t be more proud about.” She weaves through a blend of pop, R&B, amapiano, and Afrobeats (“pop-piano sounds cute,” she admits) across *TYLA*, a coming-of-age chronicle through love, heartbreak, and self-discovery. “I’m speaking about the things that I\'ve gone through while creating the album—basically three years in the making,” she explains. “I was becoming a woman. So it was a lot of growing that happened, and me realizing my worth, and realizing how I want to be treated—and how basically, I\'m that girl, and people need to know I\'m that girl.” While the project was brought to life with the help of global producers including Sammy Soso, Mocha, Believve, Rayo, and Sir Nolan, Tyla made sure they all had a taste of her homeland. “\[It was important\] to bring some to South Africa,” she explains, “so when we get in the studio, they have context. Some people that try amapiano sound so watered down, it\'s cringey. So even though I am mixing it with pop and R&B, I didn\'t want it to sound watered down. Music is our everything in Africa. The way we speak, the way we dance, literally, our dance moves—they come so naturally. It\'s just in us. It’s our essence.” Below, Tyla talks us through her debut album. **“Intro” (Tyla & Kelvin Momo)** “I wanted to start off my album with something that was truly South African, something that showed people the root of where I started, before ‘Water,’ before all of these mixtures. I secretly recorded a voice note when I was in a session with Kelvin Momo. I loved hearing the people in the session, speaking, hearing the language, the accents. It was so raw and real. Kelvin Momo is my favorite amapiano producer—his music and his sound is my heart.” **“Safer”** “The message of the song is something that I feel like a lot of people could relate to. And the energy of the song I feel like is a strong intro to open an album.” **“Water”** “‘Water’ surpassed all expectations. I could\'ve never expected all of these accolades—a Grammy, the Billboard Hot 100, people all over the world dancing and pouring water down their back. From the time I finished recording the song, it was all that I was listening to. It was also like a step away from what I was used to, because I \[had been\] *very* PG. And with this one, I was more grown up and I was experimenting more. And even though I don\'t enjoy vulgar music, I feel like we were able to make the song speak about what it speaks about, but in a way that\'s friendly.” **“Truth or Dare”** “This was the song where I was playing more house-y with it. It’s me calling out people, being like, ‘Hey, *now* you care.’ I\'m not that type of person, but these are feelings that I felt around the time where I\'m like, ‘Where did this person come from? Out of nowhere, you want to now talk to me?’ and I literally hate it. I\'m sure a lot of people have felt that.” **“No.1” (feat. Tems)** “Tems and I had been wanting to make a song for long now. We ended up making it work, and Tems\' voice alone is so amazing, so unique. The song is for everyone, but when I had it in mind, it was really for the girls—me and Tems, girl power, African girls—and we were just really pushing that message of ‘I\'m leaving. I don\'t need anybody. If this is not serving me anymore, I’m gone, and I\'m going to be okay.’ Always put yourself before anything.” **“Breathe Me”** “It\'s a song that\'s so emotional and so real. It\'s just about love, of how strong love is, and how you don\'t even need anything else. I don\'t need anything else. You don\'t need anything else—just me, and you; just breathe me and we\'ll be fine.” **“Butterflies”** “With ‘Butterflies,’ I was in a session with \[producer and songwriter Ari PenSmith\] and he was playing me some stuff that he\'s worked on, and I was like, \'Cool, cool, cool.\' And then he played this, and I fell in love with it. It sat so perfectly with my voice. I connected with the song instantly, and it was too specific to what I was going through to not do anything with it.” **“On and On”** “This was \[an initial\] version of my sound, before ‘Water’ and everything. I made this with Corey Marlon Lindsay-Keay in South Africa. We were supposed to go out, and we didn\'t end up going out, so I was dressed up in a whole outfit in the studio session, and he was producing. I love the song so much because it\'s so nostalgic but new. I love that it feels like old-school R&B. I love that it has hints of Aaliyah\'s influence, but it\'s new, and fresh, and African—all things that are Tyla. The messaging is not so serious—it’s literally about not wanting a party to end.” **“Jump” (Tyla, Gunna & Skillibeng)** “‘Jump’ is a very different vibe. I really just wanted to tell people who I am, and I had to show my confidence through the song. And the opening line, with Skilli being like, \'Original girl, you want a replica? No.\' There\'s no replica. That intro was already perfect, and it segues to that line of me saying, \'They\'ve never had a pretty girl from Joburg/They see me now and that\'s what they prefer.\' That line is just—it’s too iconic for me, and I\'m just so excited to hear all the girls sing it, all the Joburg girls sing it, all the girls from home. And having Gunna on it, I really feel like it took me into that world further, making it even more raw and cool.” **“ART”** “When I\'m with someone that treats me so good, treats me well, treats me like art, treats me like a princess, I will be there for them. I will be their art piece. We also played with that wording where it can be ‘art piece,’ but also your peace and your comfort. As a woman, that\'s how I want to be treated, and that\'s how I would treat you if you treat me that way. It’s about being treasured.” **“On My Body” (Tyla & Becky G)** “This was such a fun one because it’s in my world, but also I played a bit with the Latin vibes. The feature came so organically—I was in studio, and she was in a session next door. She loved it, and she recorded a verse, and I absolutely died. I died. I just love her touch, and how it just broadened the audience, because now it\'s just bringing everybody into this experience. It\'s a melting pot with all these genres, and I love that I was able to expand it even further.” **“Priorities”** “This song was probably the most difficult to share, because it\'s really letting people into my heart and mind, and how I feel I\'ve been with myself. I feel like people would resonate with it, and it speaks about what a lot of people feel and may not express. \[The idea of having spread yourself too thin\] is something that\'s so raw and real, that not even just women, men, everybody feels.” **“To Last”** “I love this song with all my heart. I was in the Vaal with LuuDadeejay, and I literally finished this song in five minutes. It was based off an experience that my friend was going through at the time. About a year prior, I wrote the lines ‘You never gave us a chance, it\'s like you never wanted to last.’ And that note just came to mind, and the song just flowed out of me. I ended up going through something that made me feel that way. It was like I told the future, which is not good—but I fell in love with the song again. It’s so South African: It’s amapiano, it\'s house-y, it\'s our sound.” **“Water (Remix)” (Tyla & Travis Scott)** “Travis reached out—he loved ‘Water,’ and around the time, I was like, \'I don\'t want a remix, I\'m cool.\' But Travis Scott was so unexpected that I wanted to do it so bad, and he absolutely killed it. He added some South African shout-outs in his verse, and I just knew that people from home were going to love it—he acknowledged us, and he mentioned \[the South African telephone country code\] +27 and all those things. And I also love that he brought a different energy to the song. Everyone knows ‘Water’ to be that summer banger, and now Travis made it still the summer banger, but also more gritty. Putting him on an African-sounding song was just the perfect collab.”

There’s a reason why USHER’s legions of fans call him the King of R&B: He’s been making hits for 30 years, since his self-titled debut album arrived in 1994; achieved diamond certification for his fourth album, *Confessions*; hosted a long-running Vegas residency; and landed the 2024 Apple Music Super Bowl LVIII Halftime Show. USHER’s accomplishments, creative and otherwise, should be enough to allow him to rest on his laurels, but instead, in the lead-up to that halftime show performance, he enters his next era with *COMING HOME*. USHER’s ninth album is a return to his roots and a celebration of his legacy. It’s also his first project as an independent artist, and it reunites him with longtime collaborator L.A. Reid, who signed him at 14. (*COMING HOME* also features frequent collaborators Johnta Austin, Jermaine Dupri, and Bryan-Michael Cox.) “I’ve been coming home in a lot of different ways,” USHER tells Apple Music. “The choice of music and reconnection to some of the people I’ve worked with from my past and always wanted to work with; writers I’ve actually made hit No. 1 records with. In a sense, I’m coming home because I’m in that comfortable space.” The album, he says, “is a love letter to the experience that I have as a man. It’s filled with romance.” Across 20 tracks, USHER narrates vignettes of love, lust, love lost, and everything in between. On the opening title track—which also features Nigerian singer-songwriter Burna Boy—he longs to return home to his lover after being on tour. He teams up with Summer Walker and 21 Savage on “Good Good,” in which the trio deals with an amicable breakup. “‘Good Good’ is not necessarily the most positive, but it is not bad,” USHER explains. “It’s not toxic. It\'s still a romantic song in the sense that we ain’t got to be enemies. That’s still a romantic way to have a conversation.” But on the tender ballad “Risk It All,” H.E.R. details a romantic journey between two lovers putting it on the line in the name of love. USHER then gets vulnerable on “Room in a Room” as he reflects on the hardships of growing apart within a relationship. It\'s all delivered with dreamy, intoxicating vocals set against bedroom pop, with beats ranging from bouncy (“Kissing Strangers,” “Keep on Dancin’”) to trap (“Cold Blooded”) to Afrobeats (“Ruin”) to new jack swing (“I Love U,” “Please U”). “Love is so central. It’s the source of it all, man,” USHER says. “Love is the thing that makes your heart beat, the thing that moves your spirit. Love is at the center of all things. The love of money, the love of life, and the love of partnership, love of even just a moment, love of connection.”

There’s a sense of optimism that comes through Vampire Weekend’s fifth album that makes it float, a sense of hope—a little worn down, a little roughed up, a little tired and in need of a shave, maybe—but hope nonetheless. “By the time you’re pushing 40, you’ve hit the end of a few roads, and you’re probably looking for something—I don’t know what to say—a little bit deeper,” Ezra Koenig tells Apple Music. “And you’re thinking about these ideas. Maybe they’re corny when you’re younger. Gratitude. Acceptance. All that stuff. And I think that’s infused in the album.” Take something like “Mary Boone,” whose worries and reflections (“We always wanted money, now the money’s not the same”) give way to an old R&B loop (Soul II Soul’s “Back to Life”). Or the way the piano runs on “Connect”—like your friend fumbling through a Gershwin tune on a busted upright in the next room—bring the song’s manic energy back to earth. Musically, they’ve never sounded more sophisticated, but they’ve also never sounded sloppier or more direct (“Prep-School Gangsters”). They’re a tuxedo with ripped Converse or a garage band with a full orchestra (“Ice Cream Piano”). And while you can trainspot the micro-references and little details of their indie-band sound (produced brilliantly by Koenig and longtime collaborator Ariel Rechtshaid), what you remember most is the big picture of their songs, which are as broad and comforting as great pop (“Classical”). “Sometimes I talk about it with the guys,” Koenig says. “We always need to have an amateur quality to really be us. There needs to be a slight awkward quality. There needs to be confidence and awkwardness at the same time.” Next to the sprawl of *Father of the Bride*, *OGWAU* (“og-wow”—try it) feels almost like a summary of the incredible 2007-2013 run that made them who they are. But they’re older now, and you can hear that, too, mostly in how playful and relaxed the album is. Listen to the jazzy bass and prime-time saxophone on “Classical” or the messy drums on “Prep-School Gangsters” (courtesy of Blood Orange’s Dev Hynes), or the way “Hope” keeps repeating itself like a school-assembly sing-along. It’s not cool music, which is of course what makes it so inimitably cool. Not that they seem to worry about that stuff anymore. “I think a huge element for that is time, which is a weird concept,” Koenig says. ”Some people call it a construct. I’ve heard it’s not real. That’s above my pay grade, but I will say, in my experience, time is great because when you’re bashing your head against the wall, trying to figure out how to use your brain to solve a problem, and when you learn how to let go a little bit, time sometimes just does its thing.” For a band that once announced themselves as the preppiest, most ambitious guys in the indie-rock room, letting go is big.

Vince Staples knows his songs aren’t soundtracking too many wild Friday night parties; they sound way better on the long, contemplative walk home. “I’ve always been aware of where I fit within the ecosystem of this whole thing, and that allows me to create freely,” he tells Apple Music’s Zane Lowe. “No one’s coming to me from a fan standpoint looking for a single, or looking for a party record. But I do know the people who listen to my music are probably looking for thoughtfulness or creativity.” Since breaking through a decade ago with his debut EP *Hell Can Wait*, the Long Beach rapper has been the go-to guy for heady West Coast rap: songs that may not make you dance, but always make you think. Still, his sixth studio album (and the last one on his Def Jam contract) isn’t quite the downer that the title suggests. Where its predecessor, 2022’s *RAMONA PARK BROKE MY HEART*, looked back at his bittersweet youth, *Dark Times* is a snapshot of Staples right now: on top of the world on paper, but the reality is trickier. (“I think I’m losing it,” he raps on the bass-heavy “Black&Blue.” “Hope you’re along for the ride.”) On “Government Cheese” he grapples with survivor’s guilt, mourning his brother and lying that all’s well to his friend in prison who saw him on TV. Still, light enters through the cracks with breezy, soulful beats from frequent collaborators Michael Uzowuru and LeKen Taylor, not to mention Staples’ trademark dry wit: “Don’t be no crab in the bucket, be a Crip at the Ritz,” he quips on “Freeman.” There’s even a few tracks you could bump at the function: “Étouffée,” a love letter to New Orleans rap, and “Little Homies,” a lo-fi house jam on whose hook Staples crows, “Life hard, but I go harder.” And no matter how heavy things get, Staples is realistic about what his work means in the grand scheme of things. “They\'re just songs, man,” he says. “It doesn\'t need to go past that point. I know everybody values things differently—but for me at least, put it out, people listen to it, they like it or they don\'t. And then if you get to do it the next time, that\'s the gift that you get is the ability to do it the next time, because most people don\'t get that.”

When artists experience the kind of career-defining breakthrough that Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield enjoyed with 2020’s *Saint Cloud*, they’re typically faced with a difficult choice: lean further into the sound that landed you there, or risk disappointing your newfound audience by setting off into new territory. On *Tigers Blood*, the Kansas City-based singer-songwriter chooses the former, with a set of country-indebted indie rock that reaches the same, often dizzying heights as its predecessor. But that doesn’t mean its songs came from the same emotional source. “When I made *Saint Cloud*, I\'d just gotten sober and I was just this raw nerve—I was burgeoning with anxiety,” she tells Apple Music. “And on this record, it sounds so boring, but I really feel like I was searching for normal. I think I\'ve really settled into my thirties.” Working again with longtime producer Brad Cook (Bon Iver, Snail Mail, Hurray for the Riff Raff), Crutchfield enlisted the help of rising guitar hero MJ Lenderman, with whom she duets on the quietly romantic lead single (and future classic) “Right Back to It.” Originally written for Wynonna Judd—a recent collaborator—“365” finds Crutchfield falling into a song of forgiveness, her voice suspended in air, arching over the soft, heart-like thump of an acoustic guitar. Just as simple but no less moving: the Southern rock of “Ice Cold,” in which Crutchfield seeks equilibrium and Lenderman transcendence, via solo. In the absence of inner tumult, Crutchfield says she had to learn that the songs will still come. “I really do feel like I\'ve reached this point where I have a comfort knowing that they will show up,” she says. “When it\'s time, they\'ll show up and they\'ll show up fast. And if they\'re not showing up, then it\'s just not time yet.”

“It’s definitely different,” Young Miko tells Apple Music about *att.* “You’ll feel the evolution in the music.” For anyone who thought her full-length debut would be merely an extension of 2022’s *TRAP KITTY*, the Puerto Rican rapper offers a multi-pronged, genre-mashing rebuke. Expanding well beyond prior hits like “Riri” and the Feid team-up “Classy 101,” as well as high-profile collabs with Bad Bunny and KAROL G, her album boldly engages with sounds and styles that help solidify her status as one of Latin music’s most compelling young artists. The nostalgic charms of “arcoiris” and “wiggy” speak to an era in hip-hop from well before trap music’s global dominance. An irresistible highlight, “princess peach” reframes a mid-2000s electro-meets-crunk style to tell a love story from a queer perspective. That freedom is even more prominent on “MADRE,” a house music jam that centers the genre’s LGBTQ+ foundations. “I definitely can’t die without me being able to just say whatever I want to say and express myself,” she says proudly. “Hiding yourself sounds so exhausting.” Naturally, Miko retains many of the familiar elements and touchpoints that pushed her deservedly into the spotlight. Her trap and reggaetón bona fides remain very much intact, evident on opener “rookie of the year” and late standout “curita,” among others of note. She reunites with Feid on the thumping “offline” and cultivates a dancehall reggae vibe with her “COLMILLO” collaborators Jowell & Randy on the inspired “ID.” But mostly, *att.* is an expression of a singular talent seizing her moment and standing out in the best of ways. “At the end of the day, that’s what every artist tries to be: unique.”