Rolling Stone UK's 24 Best Albums of 2024

Blossoms’ long-term producer James Skelly has always encouraged the band to try working with someone else and, on their fifth album, the UK quintet finally took him up on the suggestion. With Skelly, himself no stranger to adventurous explorations as leader of The Coral, still involved in an overarching production role, *Gary* sees Blossoms triumphantly expand their gang. “This time round we were more open-minded and wanted to try to collaborate with other people,” singer/guitarist Tom Ogden tells Apple Music. The first port of call was reaching out to soul-dance duo Jungle. “I’d realized they produced themselves and loved the way their records sounded,” says Ogden. “We booked some time on New Year’s Day 2023 to start recording and did ‘Nightclub’ and ‘What Can I Say After I’m Sorry?’ They were great but, in hindsight, we didn’t have enough songs to go and start recording the album.” The tone had been set, though, for a celebratory record with a swagger about it. After the filmic introspection of 2022’s *Ribbon Around the Bomb*, *Gary* is Blossoms back at their ebullient, anthemic best. “We always knew we wanted it to be great live and a bit of a party,” says Ogden. “That was the only blueprint.” The recording process was characterized by a series of breakthrough moments. The first was working with Jungle. The second was the emergence of the title track, bringing the live alchemy of the band back to the fore (and almost certainly the only song you will hear this year about the theft of a fiberglass gorilla called Gary). The third essential ingredient was a songwriting collaboration with Irish country-pop star CMAT. “Working with CMAT gave me the final push to be a writer and be inspired, and that seamed the album together,” says Ogden. Let the singer and bandmates Josh Dewhurst (guitar), Joe Donovan (drums), and Charlie Salt (bass) guide you through *Gary*, track by track. **“Big Star”** Tom Ogden: “I wrote this after being in the Chateau Marmont hotel in Los Angeles. This guy walked in \[the lobby\] and was having a meeting about this magazine. I Googled him while I was sat there, and it turns out he’s this big writer in America who’s got this music magazine and has done since the early ’90s. And I was like, ‘Should I go over to him and be like, “I’m in a band”?’ But then I bottled it. I like the playfulness of the lyrics. I think that was after working with CMAT, it influenced me to be like, ‘You can write something that’s really direct.’ I was literally sat there thinking it and then I just turned it into a song. Not going over to him is kind of very us and very me.” **“What Can I Say After I’m Sorry?”** TO: “This was the song that made me think, ‘Oh, we could work with Jungle.’ The sonic was influenced by Jungle really. I wrote it on the piano, it was a bit more R&B when I wrote it, maybe like Outkast or something. The title was from an old Nat King Cole record but what the song is about is when I’m in a bit of a rut and my emotions are bleeding into my relationship. I imagine it’s probably quite challenging to be with someone who’s in a rut. There’s not that much that the other person can do to snap you out of it. It’s me saying, ‘What can I say after I’m sorry?’, in terms of, ‘I wish I wasn’t like this sometimes.’” **“Gary”** TO: “I was driving home and the news came on: ‘A giant fiberglass gorilla has been stolen from a garden center in Carluke, Scotland. The hunt is on for Gary the Gorilla.’ I went home and started reading about it and then wrote the song in half an hour on the acoustic guitar. It was as if the song always existed, I just had to wait for that moment of inspiration to come over me.” Charlie Salt: “Tom does this really clever thing where he’ll take something quite daft and it’ll be juxtaposed with this lovely arrangement and melody underneath. It immediately \[sounded\] like a classic Blossoms tune and it’s got this strange emotion…and you’re always thinking about the gorilla itself.” Josh Dewhurst: “We bought our own Gary and he lives at the studio. Every day, when you get to work, you see him and you’re like, ‘How are you doing, Gary? You all right?’” **“I Like Your Look”** TO: “This was written with CMAT in Anglesey, Wales. The plan was for me and the lads to go away just for some time on our own. CMAT was going to come and write with me in Stockport but the dates didn’t work, so she was like, ‘I’ll just come to Wales with you.’ One night, we’d been trying something else and it wasn’t really working so Ciara \[Mary-Alice Thompson, aka CMAT\] was like, ‘Right, everyone get a book and start shouting things out from the book that you think could be song titles.’ Joe went, ‘I like your look,’ and I was like, ‘That’s good, it should be a song about fashion, it should be a bit like “Pop Muzik” by M.’ Ciara was like, ‘Yeah, you should do ’80s rapping like “Time Rag” by Joan Baez or Blondie’s “Rapture.”’ It was a really fast burst of creativity. We’d never written like that before, it was really fun and inspiring. Everyone brought something to the table. I think you can hear that on the record.” **“Nightclub”** TO: “This was written after reading a blog about a guy who was in love with his friend’s girlfriend. I had the title and I started reading about people trying to blag their way into nightclubs. It was inspired by my own personal experience of going to nightclubs growing up and also reading online about other people’s experiences. Working with Jungle definitely brought the best out of this song. Josh Lloyd-Watson put his thing on it. He was like, ‘Imagine you’re female backing singers in the ’60s,’ and we’d be doing all this stuff. He’d chop it up and flip the song on its head.” **“Perfect Me”** TO: “Again, this was written as us five in the room very, very fast. I came into the rehearsal room one morning and Josh was messing around on a Moog sequencer. He pressed a button, and it had a bit of that Who, ‘Baba O’Riley’ thing about it. Immediately, I was like, ‘I can hear these chords underneath this.’” CS: “It might have been the first one we recorded for the album and we were sat on it for so long. It became a little bit stale. James Skelly always stood by it and considered it a single.” TO: “Yeah, it had the energy but we shunned it a little bit. We came back with fresh ears six months later and we were like, ‘Hang on a minute, this is really good.’” **“Mothers”** TO: “I wanted to have our version of ‘Bros’ by Wolf Alice, a song about friendship. Me and Joe have been best mates since we were 12. Our mothers were actually friends in the ’80s, and I had a line about that in another song, so when I started writing this verse idea about me and Joe growing up, I was like, ‘Oh, what about the lyrics that I wrote about our mothers in the ’80s?’ I probably refined it over a month and a half and went back and tweaked this lyric, changed the verse melody, pulled the words from a different song I’d written.” Josh Dewhurst: “When we recorded it, we kept on the family theme. My dad’s a pianist. Oftentimes, when we’re in the studio properly recording, he’ll just come down for the craic because he’s a genius and also he’s funny as hell.” TO: “Josh’s dad suggested these insane chords that we would’ve never come across ourselves. It was a nice, full-circle thing, a song about me and Joe references our mothers, and then Josh’s dad played on it. It’s very wholesome.” **“Cinnamon”** TO: “This was written out of a jam in the room. This is the most collaborative record we’ve done in terms of writing, we were just jamming in there. It started off with me, Josh, and Chaz and I was hearing it \[as\] more Vampire Weekend but, when we came back and worked on it the next day, Joe made it more us, helped it become more of an anthem.” Joe Donovan: “I imagined it in a field at a festival, that big, euphoric vibe.” **“Slow Down”** TO: “‘Slow Down’ is only one of three personal songs about my relationship on this album. It usually makes up the bulk of records whereas, this time, I’ve made an effort to write about other stuff. This is saying, in a relationship, we needed to take a moment and slow down and appreciate each other a bit more. We took our eye off the ball in terms of looking after each other a little bit.” **“Why Do I Give You the Worst of Me?”** TO: “Often, I can put too much weight on stuff with the band being my source of happiness. I don’t think it’s necessarily a healthy way to live your life. It’s that thing where your partner always sees the worst of you, warts and all. I was speaking to Ciara about it because we were writing songs and trying to be very open. I was just explaining what was going on and I think my wife Katie had said, ‘Oh, why do I always get the worst of you?’ because it was like I’d gone away and come to life writing. At home, I’d been struggling writing, basically. She wanted that from me at home as well, and then Ciara just started writing it from things I was saying. It’s quite a personal song. It was quite intense.”

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.”

“This album is the sound of release, the story of a world tour condensed into one night out,” Ezra Collective bandleader Femi Koleoso tells Apple Music. “It moves from getting into the club to sussing the vibe, losing yourself to the music and feeling its euphoria. The dance floor is full of the highs and lows of life and that’s what we’re channeling.” After the London-based quintet became the first jazz act to win the Mercury Music Prize for their 2022 album *Where I’m Meant to Be*, their follow-up arrives with a dance-floor-focused bang. Featuring the band’s typical blend of jazz improvisation with West African rhythm, Afrobeat horns, and fizzing, upbeat energy, the 19 tracks of *Dance, No One’s Watching* inspire infectious movement. Written during a triumphant 2023 world tour, the record encompasses the fanfares of “The Herald,” gentle highlife rhythms on “Palm Wine,” hip-hop swing on “Streets Is Calling,” and emotive neo-soul on “Why I Smile.” “We’re questioning what ‘dance music’ actually means, since everything from klezmer to reggae and waltzes make you dance,” Koleoso says. “This album is an honest expression of all the things that move us.” Read on for Koleoso’s in-depth thoughts on a selection of songs from the album. **“The Herald”** “The word ‘herald’ means ‘bringer of joy’ and that’s what the dance floor brings to us. Ezra Collective has a mandate to bring joy when we play live and it’s what makes our shows feel so connected. We wanted to start the record deliberately with this battle cry. It’s a big shout, a manifesto of what you need to hear when you’re first getting on the dance floor. The right amount of joy will shatter your insecurities.” **“Palm Wine”** “West African highlife is a strong influence for us and this is the first time we’ve referenced it on a record. We were interested in exploring what kinds of music are allowed to be called ‘dance music’ and we think highlife is the perfect example of music for peaceful, elegant dance floors. Palm wine is a drink associated with things being relaxed and going well, and it’s the perfect title for this track that embodies when things are confident and sexy in the dance.” **“God Gave Me Feet for Dancing” (feat. Yazmin Lacey)** “This track carries on the bouncy, beautiful feel of highlife from ‘Palm Wine.’ I wrote the horn line in the shower but, once the track was done, I had a conversation with \[DJ, broadcaster, and author\] Annie Mac about joy and how it feels like God didn’t just make our feet for running and hunting, he made them for dancing, and I realized it needed a vocal too. Yazmin sings those lines perfectly, saying, ‘God gave me feet for dancing/And that’s exactly what I’ll do,’ because we can all access this joy in ourselves.” **“N29”** “I find Berlin beautifully fascinating because of their dance culture, where it’s like people are in deep meditation or being struck by the Holy Spirit on the dance floor. I wanted to recreate that depth of being in the dance on ‘N29.’ It’s named after the night bus that goes from Trafalgar Square to Enfield, through every part of North London, and it encapsulates how a huge part of the dance floor is getting there and getting back from it. This track is the middle of the record, since the middle of the night can see people arriving, already there, or leaving, and that’s what you find on the night bus with people having their different phases of the night on it. At one point, I strike my hi-hat bell like it’s pressing the button to stop the bus!” **“No One’s Watching Me” (feat. Olivia Dean)** “I’m a big fan of Olivia’s, and I was gripped when I watched her at Forwards Festival in 2023 since she was performing with such honesty. I knew I had to get her on the record, and we had such an honest session where we just started talking about life, and she said the best feeling you get when dancing is when it’s like no one’s watching you and you let the music take control. That was the song right there! Musically, it’s modeled on the marriage between Afrobeats and Afrobeat, where the horns are like Fela Kuti but the bassline and drums are like Tems and Wizkid, while Olivia soulfully drops in on top.” **“Hear My Cry”** “This is a reimagination of a church song, something I grew up listening to, since I wanted the record to take us to the church dance floor now. It’s all about how the dance floor can feel bigger than you, it can sweep you up and overcome your feelings of overwhelm. I wanted to do justice to how I hear the song in church with a marching energy but also adding a calypso/soca feel on top. I’m excited for this to come out because we’ve been playing it on tour and people go insane for it. They’ll finally know what it is now since it never had a name before!” **“Shaking Body”** “‘Shaking Body’ does exactly what it says! It’s inspired by how I fell in love with salsa music in lockdown and began writing songs in that vein, including ‘Victory Dance’ from our last album. Salsa is my favorite acoustic dance music, there’s no help from computers, just instruments tearing it to the floor and being full of aggression. We then wrote the bridge to the track separately to take some of that aggression out, like adding more mixer to a strong drink, and letting the listeners know they can still dance once it’s gone.” **“Streets Is Calling” (feat. M.anifest and Moonchild Sanelly)** “We wanted a hip-hop moment on the album as it has a rich heritage of dance in the music and it’s a big part of our palette. We wanted to bring hip-hop with an African accent, hence getting M.anifest and Moonchild involved, blending Afrobeats and amapiano with the Ezra horn lines. I’m really proud of this song, it’s worlds colliding that people wouldn’t expect from us.” **“Why I Smile”** “This is the sound of falling in love on the dance floor. It’s that moment in the night when you’re getting dramatic because the DJ played a couple of your tunes and so you’re having the best time of your life—everything feels right with the world. I’ve been down that hole in Shangri-La in Glastonbury, when the sun is rising and I feel like, ‘I could die today and I’d be good, all my friends are here!’ Musically, I wanted to keep broadening that idea of which music gives you permission to dance, since this has a laidback, neo-soul energy.” **“Everybody”** “‘Everybody’ is based on another church tune, the Nigerian Baptist song ‘Everybody Blow Your Trumpet.’ I love the word ‘everybody,’ since this album is for everybody, and this track is meant to evoke the end of a great night, when you’re not worried about how you’re going to get home, you’re just ascending. It’s a finishing feeling of euphoria, something we recorded in single takes with all our friends in the room, capturing a real feeling.”

Perhaps more so than any other Irish band of their generation, Fontaines D.C.’s first three albums were intrinsically linked to their homeland. Their debut, 2019’s *Dogrel*, was a bolshy, drizzle-soaked love letter to the streets of Dublin, while Brendan Behan-name-checking follow-up *A Hero’s Death* detailed the group’s on-the-road alienation and estrangement from home. And 2022’s *Skinty Fia* viewed Ireland from the complicated perspective of no longer actually being there. On their fourth album, however, Fontaines D.C. have shifted their attention elsewhere. *Romance* finds the five-piece wandering in a futuristic dystopia inspired by Japanese manga classic *Akira*, Paolo Sorrentino’s 2013 film *La Grande Bellezza*, and Danish director Nicolas Winding Refn’s *Pusher* films. “We didn’t set out to make a trilogy of albums but that’s sort of what happened,” drummer Tom Coll tells Apple Music of those first three records. “They were such a tight world, and this time we wanted to step outside of it and change it up. A big inspiration for this record was going to Tokyo for the first time. It’s such a visual, neon-filled, supermodern city. It was so inspiring. It brought in all these new visual references to the creative process for the first time.” Recorded with Arctic Monkeys producer James Ford (their previous three albums were all made with Dan Carey), *Romance* also brings in a whole new palette of sounds and colors to the band’s work. From the clanking apocalyptic dread of the opening title track, hip-hop-inspired first single “Starburster,” and the warped grunge and shoegaze hybrids of “Here’s the Thing” and “Sundowner,” it opens a whole new chapter for Fontaines D.C., while still finding time for classic indie rock anthems such as “Favourite”’s wistful volley of guitars or the Nirvana-like “Death Kink.” “Every album we do feels like a huge step in one direction for us, but *Romance* is probably a little bit more outside of our previous records,” says Coll. “It’s exciting to surprise people.” Read on as he dissects *Romance*, one track at a time. **“Romance”** “This is one that we wrote really late at night in the studio. It just fell out of us. It was one of those real moments of feeling, ‘Right, that’s the first track on the album.’ It’s kind of like a palate cleanser for everything that’s come before. It’s like the opening scene. I feel like every time we’ve done a record there’s been one tune that’s always stuck out like, ‘This is our opening gambit...’” **“Starburster”** “Grian \[Chatten, singer\] wrote most of this tune on his laptop, so there were lots of chopped-up strings and stuff—it was quite a hip-hop creative process. It’s probably the song that is furthest away from the old us on this album. This tune was the first single and we always try and shock people a bit. It’s fun to do that.” **“Here’s the Thing”** “This was written in the last hour of being in the studio. We had maybe 12 or 13 tracks ready to go and just started jamming, and it presented itself in an hour. \[Guitarist Conor\] Curley had this really gnarly, ’90s, piercing tone, and it just went from there.” **“Desire”** “This has been knocking around for ages. It was one of those tunes that took so many goes to get to where it was meant to sit. It started as a band setup and then we went really electronic with it. Then in the studio, we took it all back. It took a while for it to sit properly. Grian did 20 or 30 vocal layers on that, he really arranged it in an amazing way. Carlos \[O’Connell, guitarist\] and Grian were the main string arrangers on this record. This was the first record where we actually got a string quartet in—before, people would just send it over. So being able to sit in the room and watch a string quartet take center stage on a song was amazing.” **“In the Modern World”** “Grian wrote this song when he was in LA. He was really inspired by Lana Del Rey and stuff like that. Hollywood and the glitz and the glamour, but it’s actually this decrepit place. It’s that whole idea of faded glamour.” **“Bug”** “This felt like a really easy song for us to write. That kind of buzzy, all-of-us-in-the-same-room tune. I really fought for this one to be on the record. I feel like, with songs like that, trying to skew them and put a spin on them that they don’t need is overwriting. If it feels right then there’s no point in laboring over it. That song is what it is and it’s great. It’s going to be amazing live.” **“Motorcycle Boy”** “This one is inspired by The Smashing Pumpkins a bit. We actually recorded it six months before the rest of the album. This tune was the real genesis of the record and us finding a path and being like, ‘OK, we can explore down here...’ That was one that really set the wheels in motion for the album. It really informed where we were going.” **“Sundowner”** “On this album, we were probably coming from more singular points than we have before. A lot of the lads brought in tunes that were pretty much there. I was sharing a room with Curley in London, and he was working on this really shoegaze-inspired tune for ages. I think he always thought that Grian would sing it, but when he put down the guide vocals in the studio it sounded great. We were all like, ‘You are singing this now.’” **“Horseness Is the Whatness”** “Carlos sent me a demo of that tune ages and ages ago. It was just him on an acoustic, and it was such a powerful lyric. I think it’s amazing. We had to kind of deconstruct it and build it back up again in terms of making it fit for this record. Carlos had made three or four drum loops for me and it was a really fun experience to try and recreate that. I don’t know how we’re going to play it live but we’ll sort it out!” **“Death Kink”** “Again, this came from one of the jams of us setting up for a studio session. It’s another one of those band-in-a-room-jamming-out kind of tunes. On tour in America, we really honed where everything should sit in the set. This is going to be such a fun tune to play live. We’ve started playing it already and it’s been so sick.” **“Favourite”** “‘Favourite’ was another one we wrote when we were rehearsing. It happened pretty much as it is now. We were kind of nervous about touching it again for the album because that first recording was so good. That’s the song that hung around in our camp for the longest. When we write songs on tour, often we end up getting bored of them over time but ‘Favourite’ really stuck. We had a lot of conversations about the order on this album and I felt it was really important to move from ‘Romance’ to ‘Favourite.’ It feels like a journey from darkness into light, and finishing on ‘Favourite’ leaves it in a good spot.”

“To anyone who feels like they’re being overlooked, don’t have conversations with people about ‘It should be you.’ No, it shouldn’t,” Ghetts tells Apple Music’s Dotty. “Don’t download the virus. Saying to me, ‘It should be you’ is a virus because if you take that upon yourself, you’re going to put out this energy of \[being\] underrated—now you become that. Your time comes when it’s meant to. Everyone has a time, and the truth is this: We’re only individuals, so the culture will *always* remain bigger than us.” After two decades of grime-scene grind, 2021’s lauded *Conflict of Interest* proved a landmark moment for the prolific MC, once labeled “Ghetto” as a product of his inner-city environment. The album’s subtle arrangement met with sharp, analytical insights that surfaced a greater sense of self. *On Purpose, With Purpose*, Ghetts pushes further across the ground he explored on his major label debut, reflecting the climb from impoverished youth to esteemed elder statesman in detail. “I wanted to keep the story going,” he explains. “Creating an album is simply adding another chapter to my book, and I wouldn’t want you reading the same \[part\] twice.” It was while touring *Conflict of Interest* that Ghetts put the foundation in place for album four. He gutted out a derelict complex and built separate recording rooms, each housing different producers, with Ghetts moving from one to another in a door-to-door writing-camp experience. This all-encompassing approach is felt throughout. On the Sampha-assisted “Double Standards,” he takes aim at the contradictions of global conflict—and the taxman. For synth-knocker “Laps,” Ghetts pairs again with South Africa’s Moonchild Sanelly, renewing the electric chemistry of *Conflict of Interest* standout “Mozambique.” The album’s eye-catching MC additions also deliver fireworks at steady intervals. “Mount Rushmore” sets out a sizzling, three-way rally with Kano and Wretch 32 (his old crew teammates from N.A.S.T.Y. and The Movement respectively). Unbelievably the first time the trio has shared a track, it employs choir harmonies and the timeless words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. as the three enshrine their status as UK greats in stone-cold rhyme. *On Purpose, With Purpose* serves up a dedication to Ghetts’ perseverance and longevity, swinging through genres—and generations—from track to track. “We are pieces of a huge puzzle,” he says. “Sometimes, we’re not given enough credit for what we’ve been inspired by—or who we’ve gone on to inspire. Those very important conversations are just not had. But that attitude only comes from people who don’t really understand: The whole time I’ve been blessed, the whole time.”

When Griff was writing her debut album, she went alone to a variety of homes and Airbnbs to get it done. That’s how the UK singer, songwriter, and producer (real name Sarah Griffiths) found herself in Imogen Heap’s old home, now a residential studio, piecing together song ideas. The house was round, and in the middle was a staircase. During a FaceTime call with friend and collaborator Congee, they both noted how the stairs might give you vertigo. But the album’s title has a more layered meaning, too. “It’s this idea of vertigo in an emotional sense,” Griff tells Apple Music. “All of these songs are written from a place of autobiographical, emotional vertigo. The physical condition of vertigo is the idea of dizziness and a loss of balance and the world spinning and not really being able to grapple and find your feet in all of that.” *Vertigo* arrives three years after Griff won the prestigious Rising Star award at the 2021 BRITs, having started as a teenager teaching herself production via YouTube. A lot has changed since then, but much of this record’s DNA is still in that DIY place. “The genesis of almost all these ideas has been me by myself making beats and lyrics,” she says. (She also worked closely with her core team of Congee, Lost Boy, and Siba, who she says are “like brothers” to her.) The result is a debut record about losing parts of yourself to time and hurt, and wondering if you’ll ever get them back—and a collection offering a vast array of feelings and energy. Here, her big, unfaltering voice is met with synth, piano, and guitar, all drenched in both euphoria and melancholy. “I love how in pop you can have such a spectrum of feeling,” says Griff. “That’s really the goal for me with this album—that people are moved, whether it’s that they want to dance and scream it out and it’s super cathartic, or they hear all the notes of loneliness and sadness in there. I wanted to explore the most extreme emotions.” Here, Griff dives into her debut, one track at a time. **“Vertigo”** “The song’s really simple at its core. Congee and I wrote it all over one note, so it doesn’t really change. It was only later that we started putting in chords and the bridge to make it feel like it’s building. We created that climax journey where all the synths are getting more and more layered, and that was very much to create that vertigo feeling. I really love the production, and I love that the drums and the rhythm are very hip-hop-inspired, even though it’s such a pop tune. Even the BPM of it, I think we were very much inspired by old James Blake beats and *808s & Heartbreak* and that world. It’s fun to disguise those kinds of rhythms and grooves in a pop melody.” **“Miss Me Too”** “I wanted to write a song about the idea of missing an older version of yourself for a while. There was a version of yourself that used to exist that wasn’t so heartbroken, it wasn’t so cynical about love and people, and it had this trust in the world that you feel like you’ve lost. I wrote this with Lost Boy and Siba—Lost Boy came in with the more pop, almost dance-y piano chords. And it just felt right that it would be super euphoric. I like the sense that it’s not really a love song; it’s more a conversation with yourself and about trying to get yourself back.” **“Into the Walls”** “This is one of the first songs I wrote on this album. Again, I love that it’s not really a love song. It’s basically about being at such a low, numb point in yourself that you look at the walls around you and you’re almost jealous of their existence because at least they’re strong and they can hold something up and can watch the world go by. And that’s almost more than you can say for yourself. It’s a bit of a stream of consciousness. It’s all pretty true to the first time I improvised it. ‘Today, I really, really don’t think I can do this’ is the essence of the song. And it’s that fantasy, it might be nice to disappear and to not be in my body for a second. It’s quite an innocent metaphor, but also very heart-wrenching.” **“19th Hour”** “This is probably the one I mainly produced for myself. It’s about how hurtful the words ‘I love you’ can be when it’s not said because someone means it, but almost as a last resort, or just as a way to cover up all of the issues. And it’s about being almost too optimistic. I feel like in a lot of our lives, we can be pessimists with everything, but actually when it comes to that one person, for some reason you’re an optimist, hoping they’ll change, hoping they’ll stick around, hoping it’ll turn a corner. It’s sitting in that place of knowing maybe things aren’t right but wanting them to be. The production really sums up the album to me, because it starts off in a super melancholic way, but it builds into such euphoric big drums and those big stabs.” **“Astronaut”** “I was alone in a house, sitting at the piano. I started with the chorus lyric: ‘You said that you needed space/Go on then, astronaut.’ It’s got this tongue-in-cheek style. That line kind of came out of nowhere, and then made sense to what I was trying to write. It’s almost dealing with rejection by going like, ‘Go on then. But it really hurts. But go on then.’ Everyone’s got this weird mindset with dating where there’s a million fish in the sea, and everyone’s constantly thinking the grass is greener, and there’s more out there. I wrote it originally on piano, and then for some reason shied away from that and produced it up into something that was a lot more synthy and almost spacey. I’m so glad that with Chris \[Martin\], we ended up stepping it back and putting it on piano again, because I think the lyric deserves that. It was surreal having Chris on it \[Martin plays piano on the track\]. And very special.” **“Anything”** “It’s almost a song of trying to figure out, ‘Do you realize the hold you have on me? And if you do, that makes this even more dark, and I’m letting you know I would’ve done anything you wanted.’ That’s why that lyric is screamed. It’s like you’re almost trying to get through to this person. It’s from a young female perspective. Often you get into relationships where there is a power imbalance, especially if it’s a first real love or a first real feeling of attachment to someone. Again, the production’s super upbeat and super cathartic and epic, and I love how dramatic the lyrics are in the chorus. The bridge is more in hindsight: It’s that feeling of how, at the end of something, often it’s your confidence that’s been completely ripped from you.” **“Pillow in My Arms”** “It’s the most reminiscent of some of my earlier stuff, because this one really was just me on production. It’s about loneliness and the idea that at the end of everything, once you’ve lost everything or everyone, maybe your pillow is your only companion. It almost reminds me of Miss Havisham in *Great Expectations*, where she’s still in her wedding dress. You’re going through this denial and insanity, talking to this pillow as if it’s a human. And the production has that groove, and it’s really simple. It’s that one riff at the beginning that grows and grows throughout the song.” **“Cycles”** “I went on a writing camp with Congee, and we were put in a room with these amazing songwriters, Vera \[Carlbom\] and Minna \[Koivisto\]. Minna’s DNA is more in the dance world, so the original track was a lot more dance-y. By that point, I was aware the album was about vertigo and spinning, so it felt really natural to write these lyrics. It’s about how there’s not a linear chronology to heartbreak—you think you’re done, then you’re not, and it’s an endless cycle, and you’re exhausted, but at this point you’re just dancing in it. I got back to London and asked if Mura Masa would be down to reproduce it. We’ve worked together a little bit before. I’m a really big fan of his sound. He was an influence when I started out producing myself. So, it was a dream come true, and you can really hear his sonic stamp on it.” **“Tears for Fun”** “One of the really euphoric ones. I wanted to sing it with a big audience. I guess the concept is a question between yourself or God or something where you’re like, ‘Will I always be collecting tears for fun?’ It feels like, at this point, that’s what I’m doing. The chorus makes me feel really moved and like I want to yell it. I definitely think there is a second layer when you are a writer or a creative where you’re like, ‘Am I getting myself into these situations for the story of it?’ It’s all of those questions. I was listening to a lot of ’80s music, like Yazoo’s ‘Only You.’ I wanted to inject a bit of that into this song.” **“Hiding Alone”** “The song’s about that one person almost being your force field to the world. That one relationship or friendship that, when you’re with them, it’s almost like the rest of the world can disappear for a second, and that safety has been your bedrock. And as soon as that disappears, you’re like, ‘Whoa, who am I? What am I?’ I like it because it’s one of the only guitar songs in the album, but it just felt right.” **“Hole in My Pocket”** “In this album, there are a lot of metaphors and visual analogies about the idea of loneliness. On this, it’s feeling like you’ve got a hole in your pocket because you can’t explain why you’re in this place, losing things. There are romantic undertones to all of the songs, but a lot of them aren’t particularly romantic for me. At this stage in life, a lot of relationships are shifting, and with the nature of my life—going from COVID to touring to moving out of home, living by myself—so much about the relationships in my life is shifting. You’re entering adulthood and reflecting on what relationships matter and what relationships weren’t right.” **“Everlasting”** “I want to believe in the everlasting in that I want to believe that love can last and be good. But often, everyone carries a little bit of generational baggage into their relationships. And I especially think that’s real when you come from different ethnic backgrounds but grow up in the UK; you have a different idea of what relationships look like. I’ve always really been aware of my upbringing not being the tidy, neat picture of what often we see. I was always so aware because, culturally, I’ve got a Jamaican dad and Chinese mom. My whole upbringing was hectic in so many layers, in so many different ways. You’re confronted with it at different stages in your life. And in school, you’re confronted with it on maybe a beauty-standard level. But as you grow older, it dribbles into your relationships and everything. It’s a complex thing that will keep unraveling.” **“So Fast”** “With the journey of the album, it’s like we’ve built up to this bit and then it’s almost calm, simmering down, with lots of reflective songs at this point. It’s essentially a folk song, and again, it’s nearly a love song but not quite—it’s still from a point of loneliness. It’s about the end of the night or a party or whatever, and you’re having this moment with someone, and you’re like, ‘Actually I don’t want you to go so fast because I’m really lonely.’ But it’s almost like you’re too lonely and polite to say that outright. So, you’re like, ‘You don’t have to go right now if you don’t want to.’ It’s from someone who’s quite broken and doesn’t really want to put themselves out there. But it’s like, ‘I could watch everyone else disappear, but if you could stay here for a moment, that’d be really nice.’” **“Where Did You Go”** “I wrote this around the same time as ‘Into the Walls,’ so you can see where my head was at. I guess it’s a less conventional pop song. It felt right to keep it on vocoder and sprinkle around elements of synth. The story is basically about someone going missing in your life, and it splits into two halves. The first is like, ‘Where did you go? I’ve been looking everywhere,’ and then the second half is the person that’s gone missing going, ‘Sorry, but I’m leaving.’ For me, it was written about the idea of fleeing the nest and the guilt of that—a conversation between a parent and a child. But I’ve left it open—you could also hear it in a relationship sense. It’s the question of the album. I’m asking it about myself: ‘Where did I go?’”

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.”

Jamie Smith’s 2015 debut solo album *In Colour* set the tone for an entire decade of left-of-center electronic music, but his long-awaited follow-up harbors zero pretension when it comes to trend-watching. Nine years later, *In Waves* sets its sights on the dance floor with glorious aplomb, the perfect complement to a string of body-moving singles that the iconic British producer has released in the preceding year and a half. “The collaboration element was helping me push things forward without having to think too much about myself on my own,” Smith tells Apple Music’s Zane Lowe. From there, the rest of *In Waves* came together in quick succession—and, suitably, the record’s rowdy and in-a-crowd feel was largely inspired by the solitude of the lockdown era, as well as dreams of how it would feel to play big tunes for huge audiences again. “I was starting to get excited about the idea of playing shows again,” Smith says. The guest list for this party is overflowing: Along with a practical reunion of his main outfit The xx on the dreamy “Waited All Night,” house music auteur and recent Beyoncé collaborator Honey Dijon lends her distinctive incantations to the squelch of “Baddy on the Floor,” while experimental-leaning vocalists Kelsey Lu and Panda Bear throw in on the soul-streaked and woozy “Dafodil.” But at the center of *In Waves* is a truly assured sense of confidence from Smith, who’s returned here with a set of club-ready cuts that’s truly crowd-pleasing—all without losing the distinctive touch that’s brought him so much deserved acclaim to this point. “One of the most inspiring things is to go out clubbing,” he says. “And I think you can have quite profound thoughts even in an altered state on the dance floor.”

Kelly Lee Owens’ musical journey has been a fascinating one. After spending time as the bassist of the noisy British indie-pop outfit The History of Apple Pie, she took an abrupt left turn into electronic territory with 2017’s self-titled debut album, which melded brainy production with melodic pop gewgaws delivered straight from the Welsh singer-songwriter’s pipes. 2020’s *Inner Song* and the 2022 follow-up *LP.8* ventured further into strange territory, the former featuring a cover of Radiohead’s “Arpeggi” and a feature from art-pop luminary John Cale—but nothing she’s done previously can prepare you for the total rush of her fourth album *Dreamstate*. Owens’ music has always been body-moving even at its most abstract, but on her inaugural bow for the 1975 production impresario George Daniel’s dh2 imprint, she heads full-on into big-room territory—think miles of pulsing synths, dewy rhythmic stretches lovingly ripped from trance’s fabric, and a distinct psychedelic flavor. *Dreamstate* is, in its essence, a capital-B big-sounding record, with guest turns from the type of folks—The Chemical Brothers, Bicep, and Daniel himself all pitch in on programming and production—who know how to play to massive crowds looking to feel something. But the sound of this record retains the trademark wispy intimacy that Owens has proven so good at, launching her to the forefront of electronic pop alongside fellow sneaky-smart dance-pop alchemists like Jamie xx, Caribou, Floating Points, and HAAi. The lush, soaring build of “Higher” dissolves into the type of pulsing synth line that you can practically feel in your bloodstream, while “Air” packs a four-to-the-floor punch as her vocals aerate the neon house-music surroundings. Owens’ pop sensibilities, which she’s cloaked in mysterious left-field sonic shapes in the past, are more present than ever before: Witness the arpeggiated ascent of “Rise,” which features a lovely vocal sigh reminiscent of Kate Bush’s “This Woman’s Work,” or the bell-clear sincerity of “Ballad (In the End),” the most straightforwardly vocal pop cut of the bunch.

“It’s quite a strange album,” Nia Archives tells Apple Music about her debut, *Silence Is Loud*. The award-winning artist, producer, and DJ—credited with spearheading a mainstream revival of jungle music—is the first to acknowledge that the sonic landscape of the album is an eclectic departure from her early sound. While elements of the production will be familiar to fans of Archives—including jungle pioneer Goldie and global superstar Beyoncé—*Silence Is Loud* rings with Britpop, Motown, and alternative rock influences, resulting in a wholly original listening experience that exposes the unconventional edge to her artistry. Co-produced with rising talent Ethan P. Flynn, whose credits include FKA twigs and slowthai, the record is beholden to the late-’90s/early-2000s era of organic, experimental pop dominated by William Orbit—albeit charged with the frenetic energy of drum patterns still firmly rooted in jungle. While tracks like “Cards on the Table,” “Crowded Roomz,” and “F.A.M.I.L.Y” see Archives explore recurring themes of loneliness, self-acceptance, parental estrangement, and love—both unconditional and unrequited—with her characteristic lyrical candor, *Silence Is Loud* leaves fewer places for the intensity of her words to hide behind. This reality is most clearly evidenced on the reprise of the title track, which strips away her typical percussive camouflage. “Jungle is so chaotic and intense that nobody really pays attention to the lyrics that much,” says Archives. “The drums take up a lot of space in the music—they’re like the heart, and when you take that away, it’s like the brain. Which is a bit much sometimes.” For all the risk Archives has taken in releasing a body of work that resists the urge to chase trends in favor of presenting a true reflection of her own journey, *Silence Is Loud* succeeds in alchemizing its disparate parts into audio gold. “I played in a pub in London the other day and the people were singing along so loudly it made me think this isn’t just a viral-TikTok-moment album. It’s an album that people have to listen to, and then listen to again to take it in…\[because\] it’s something weird and new,” she says. “But I think I’ve got good taste in music, so that gives me a little bit of confidence in myself.” Read on to find out more about each track in Archives’ own words. **“Silence Is Loud”** “I wrote this song about my little brother, who is my little baby. He’s getting older and our relationship has changed so much. He’s changed so much, I’ve changed so much. I wanted to write about how I love him no matter what, and that is what unconditional love is to me. There’s no ifs or buts, it’s just pure love. I wrote it in bed and then I took it to Ethan. It’s the first song we made together. One of my favorite albums is *Aha Shake Heartbreak* by Kings of Leon, I’m so inspired by the lo-fi \[sound\] in their music. I really wanted a Kings of Leon-meets-Radiohead moment because *In Rainbows* is also one of my favorite albums.” **“Cards on the Table”** “I wanted to make a really hardcore Britpop jungle tune. It’s quite stripped-back breaks. I was hugely inspired by Blur, Pulp, Oasis, all that kind of vibe. I love Damon Albarn. If there’s anyone I would love to listen to the album, it would probably be him. Again, I wrote this in bed—I had a bit of a situationship with an Irish boy I met after a show in Dublin last year, so it’s a real story and my first time writing a song like this. I don’t really write love songs, but I was trying to have a bit of a Natasha Bedingfield moment. I’ve really tried to think of all the best songwriters to come out of the UK and focused on studying a lot of people. This was the first time I wrote a song and I felt like it was a ‘proper’ song.” **“Unfinished Business”** “This is the only song I’m worried about having to sing live because I’d just come back from a festival and I’d lost my voice, which is why it sounds so hoarse and rock ’n’ roll—I don’t know if I can re-sing it like that. I wrote it about realizing that everybody else has their own life before they’ve met you. Before you even say hello, they’ve already had so many experiences that have shaped them as a person. That’s actually quite positive. The production is quite four-four because I’ve been making loads of four-four music recently. And I also really wanted to make a Foo Fighters-inspired jungle tune because I loved the Foo Fighters when I was 14.” **“Crowded Roomz”** “We made this in the studio and it was a bit overwhelming. I was talking about loneliness—chronic loneliness. I feel like a lot of people my age experience loneliness. For me, with what I do—where it’s really high or low—it’s so heightened and you experience that a little bit more. And it was like, ‘Oh my god, this is actually a bit much, I can’t listen,’ because we listen to the same song on loop for four hours and it’s an intense one to listen to over and over again. The next day, we were like, ‘Oh, this is actually really good.’ I’ve been playing this one out and everyone screams the words, so I’m hoping that will be the vibe across the album. More of my sets have turned from hardcore jungle to a pop concert, which is cool.” **“Forbidden Feelingz”** “I feel like there’ll be a lot of people discovering me \[through this new sound\] and I really want them to hear where I’ve come from and how I got to this point. This is a nice moment for a switch-up, to be like, ‘I do this as well and, if you want, you can go back and discover all that stuff.’ I can never recreate this song, it’s one of my favorite songs I’ve ever made, so I didn’t want it to not be a part of an album that will hopefully shape the next few years of my life.” **“Blind Devotion”** “This is the longest project I’ve made in my life. I’m usually a 20-minute person, max. Towards the end I was like, ‘Oh my god, for an album to be an album it has to be 35 minutes, I need three \[more\] minutes to complete this thing, let’s make one more song.’ It’s one of the only new songs with the ‘old me’ sound, where it’s really clubby. We were going for that Massive Attack kind of vibe. We made this one at my studio and mine’s not got a lot of equipment. I try not to spend money on too much stuff. I’ve got 10 plug-ins, which is really weird as a producer, but I’d rather be the master of what I’ve got than have everything and not know how to use any of it. As a creative, you want a challenge and to feel like, ‘I’ve only got this, how do I make it sound interesting?’” **“Tell Me What It’s Like?”** “I said to Ethan that I wanted to make a song a bit like The Cranberries. The middle section, which is so happy, comes from another beat—the only song that didn’t make it on to the album. The rest of the song is quite dark and it was Ethan’s idea to put the two together. It’s about unrequited love, but not necessarily in a relationship sense, more related to my own life, but I guess people will take it however they want to take it. When I wrote it, I was inspired by Natalie Imbruglia’s kind of vibe. I sampled this voice note that Goldie sent me, because he sends me voice notes every week. He’s been a great listening ear and a real supporter. He’s someone I’m so inspired by and look up to—not just as a musician but as a person. He was quite gassed about it when I sent it to him.” **“Nightmares”** “I had my heart broken in Tokyo, which is hilarious and random. It’s like something out of a film. I came back from Asia and I was really sad, and the only way I can process my emotions is by making music. I wrote this song at home and then Ethan’s label let us use their spare studio, and he brought his guitar. I’d been listening to loads of Fleetwood Mac to get over my upset and I wanted to make something with that vibe. I thought ‘Nightmares don’t just happen when you’re sleeping’ was quite a funny play on words because what was happening felt like a real-life nightmare, which is so dramatic. This is the only song I kind of regret. I’ve never been really mean on a song in my life and the person I wrote about hasn’t heard it. I hope they don’t hate me because we’re kind of friends again now. But it’s a good song, so what can you do?” **“F.A.M.I.L.Y”** “I wrote this about my personal experience and my relationship with my family. This song is the end of that era, for me. I’m 25 this year, I feel like there’s only so many times you can be so caught up in things that cause you stress or upset you, so I really just wanted to say my piece and that’s it. There’s a little bit of acceptance within the song, understanding this is just the way things are and that’s OK, I guess. It was quite therapeutic. We recorded it in Ethan’s flat with me screaming and Ethan’s friend Felix \[Stephens\] playing the viola. My main inspiration was Estelle, ‘1980.’ There’s just a feeling I get when I listen to that song…I don’t know how to explain it. Even the video, where she’s sat on the stairs. It’s just a whole vibe I really wanted to capture with this song. It’s quite theatrical and I feel like the production reflects the drama.” **“Out of Options”** “I’d just been to the Motown Museum in Detroit for the first time and it was amazing. I love Motown. All the productions they made, just with what they had in those times, is actually crazy. It was such a booming Black industry that I’ve always been so inspired by. And I love The Ronettes, one of my favorite girl groups of all time. So I was really intensely listening to that kind of music and wanted to explore that sound. It was the only song I wrote on the spot and didn’t really have much that I wanted to say, but it was really fun recording how they would have recorded—standing in different spots in the room to create that big sound.” **“Silence Is Loud (Reprise)”** “Ethan suggested we do a reprise and I was kind of like, ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Feels a little bit weird.’ But I trusted his gut. This was the only song we didn’t make in the UK. I was in L.A. on tour, and I hate making music in L.A., but we were at Sound Factory and we had all kinds of equipment and he was really having fun with the sound design. Throughout this album, I wanted to have loads of voice notes and anecdotes from people who mean something to me. So the voice talking at the start is my brother. In the middle, it’s loads of different voice notes from my friends, my friends’ parents who have become a really big part of my life, and my manager Tom, who’s my best friend. At the end is a sample of a video of all my friends from my birthday dinner. It’s quite emotional actually.” **“Killjoy !”** “I had a really nasty interaction with somebody who was quite close to me and this was me expressing that. It was the first time I was trying to think about how to make the words interesting and I love the way I wrote it. I made it at home and took it to Ethan, and what he brought to it was so cool—Massive Attack vibes with a bit of old-school IDM and jungle.” **“So Tell Me…”** “Another moment from a previous project. If I didn’t make \[2023 EP\] *Sunrise Bang Ur Head Against Tha Wall*, this song would have been on the album anyway—it felt like a good end.”

Expansive, cinematic, adventurous: These are the intentions saxophonist and composer Nubya Garcia decided to channel when it came to creating *Odyssey*. “I wanted to make a record that felt bigger, something that delivers unexpected emotions,” she tells Apple Music. Bursting onto the London jazz scene in 2017 with the release of her debut EP, *Nubya’s 5ive*, Garcia became a key proponent of a new group of young improvisers who were drawing on jazz traditions as much as their diaspora heritages in their music. Following 2020’s full-length debut *SOURCE*, Garcia now develops her Afrobeat- and dub-influenced sound further to encompass everything from the sweeping string arrangements of “Clarity” to the weighty soundsystem basslines of “Triumphance” and the ’90s R&B references of “Set It Free.” Largely written during extended trips to Brazil, away from her typically hectic touring schedule, *Odyssey* is Garcia soaking up new atmospheres to create an instinctual and intricately articulate music. “This is me growing through joy and practice,” she says. “It’s the fullest, freest vision of myself.” Read on for her in-depth thoughts on the album, track by track. **“Dawn” (feat. Esperanza Spalding)** “I wrote this track when I was in Brazil for six weeks at the end of 2022. I was staying right by the ocean and would wake up for the sunrise every day. It was such a beautiful, poignant way to start the day and this melody just came to me in that environment. I’ve always loved Esperanza’s work and she felt like the perfect addition to the song—I was so happy when she agreed to it. I only gave her the title and let her run free otherwise with these beautiful lyrics drawing on the Icarus myth.” **“Odyssey”** “‘Odyssey’ is the epic adventure of the record. I didn’t know the album would center on this composition but I had a feeling that it was going to be cinematic and journeying. Every section of this tune keeps building and turning in unexpected ways, from the keys to the string section producing a huge range of light to darkness. The melody wanders and feels like a beautiful marriage between my love of modal jazz and my love of classical textures. It all flowed really quickly since I had so many ideas for it, all sparking on from one another.” **“Solstice”** “This is one of the oldest tracks on the album. I wanted it to have a busy, erratic beat with a slower melody sauntering and winding over it. It’s about the fast and slow being in conversation. It’s called ‘Solstice’ because the first time I played it with the band was on the summer solstice in 2023. We’d all been away and not done a gig for a while but it just felt right and went down really well.” **“Set It Free” (feat. Richie)** “As soon as I began trying out ideas for this track, I knew I wanted it to have a chill but energetic backbeat, one you could walk down the street to. Richie’s vocals add a stunning sound and lyricism and establish the theme of the song being about promoting confidence in women who are so often raised in society to continually apologize for themselves. It also features a cheeky nine-bar loop, rather than the usual eight, which always surprises me when it comes around!” **“The Seer”** “‘The Seer’ is about wishing you could catch a glimpse of yourself in the future to know you’re on the right track and be confident about your choices. Sonically, it’s a nod to modal jazz with classic voicings and then shifts into my love of broken beats and energetic drums. That switch feels a bit like the ’90s R&B interludes where you hear a snippet of another section or song coming in.” **“Odyssey (Outerlude)”** “I wanted outerludes on the album to give the listener a reprieve and remind them of what they have just listened to before, as well as melting into a different energy for the rest of the record. This switches it from a very high-energy beginning to something much softer and quieter for the halfway point. I love it because it has an eerie vibe full of shimmering strings.” **“We Walk in Gold” (feat. Georgia Anne Muldrow)** “The melody for this composition feels like a lament but the intentions of the tune are joyous. It’s full of energies of hope, purpose, and direction, all informed by the color gold, which represents a light that releases darkness for me. I’ve always loved Georgia Anne Muldrow’s work and was elated when she agreed to feature on this track with me—she fully embodied the track’s uplifting intentions.” **“Water’s Path”** “This was the only tune on the album written in one go with no edits, which is something I haven’t done before. It’s one of my favorites because I’ve never written for strings before this album and I’m really proud of how this song embodies both happiness and sadness, as well as the qualities of water always finding its way through, which is reflected in the ostinato that just keeps ticking along. It’s super melodic and romantic.” **“Clarity”** “The vision for this song became clearer—no pun intended—as I wrote it and it became really enjoyable seeing it morph into the final version where the harmony is upward-reaching and always building. The intention behind the song is about the importance of clarity and transparency in relationships and how freeing that can be when we have it.” **“In Other Words, Living”** “Like ‘Clarity,’ this song always feels like it’s reaching upwards, pushing for peace and excitement in life. It’s a song about being intentionally present and living the balancing act between happiness and sadness that so often constitutes our existence as humans. That’s living as I know it, anyway.” **“Clarity (Outerlude)”** “I wanted one more reprise before we end, something to shift the listeners’ energy back to what’s been before and to show how far we’ve come over the course of the record. It’s a small offering to the journey we’ve traveled on together.” **“Triumphance”** “We’ve been playing this track for a few years to close the live shows and it always leaves people with such joy, since they can’t help but move when it drops. I wasn’t going to record it for the album but it ultimately felt like the only way we could end. I wanted a speech over the dub while the band cooked, something to sum up the triumphant themes of the record and to leave people feeling self-confident as they go out into the world. Except, the person I wanted to do the speech couldn’t and we were running out of time, so I ended up recording it myself, which was a first! I guess I had to find my own self-confidence here to say my piece.”

“I have to write about how I feel,” Rachel Chinouriri tells Apple Music. “If I don’t feel it or can’t relate to it, I can’t write about it.” Since breaking out in 2022 with viral track “So My Darling,” the South London singer-songwriter has done just that, penning bittersweet indie bops and devastating ballads that have been fueled, most often, by stories of heartache. You’ll find plenty of that on this debut album, but Chinouriri also goes deeper, with songs about self-contempt, loss, grief, and feeling like you don’t belong right when you’re supposed to be killing it (see “The Hills,” her cathartic exhale about a five-week songwriting trip to LA, which left her feeling lonely, under pressure, and creatively stumped). For Chinouriri, *What a Devastating Turn of Events* was shaped by “the journey of being in your early twenties. You finally leave home and then you are kind of becoming an adult, but you don’t really feel like an adult,” she says. “You’re still looking at the grown-ups to give you advice, but you are the grown-up. It is a weird journey of trying to discover yourself. Being able to feel and then turn it into song—it’s a privilege to have that as a gift.” But *What a Devastating Turn of Events* also feels rooted in much more than just a bumpy life transition, and Chinouriri’s lyricism is laced with far more wisdom than most people can apply to those chaotic early-twenties years. Either way, the singer-songwriter wanted her debut to capture what it’s like to be shattered by a sudden event. And so, the record opens with sharp-witted, mostly upbeat indie-pop moments (plus some “wonky” bits, as Chinouriri puts it), before the crushing title track—written after the singer-songwriter’s cousin tragically took her own life—shifts this album, and its creator, on its axis. What follows are some of Chinouriri’s most raw, arresting songs yet. “When death happens, it does turn your entire world upside down,” she says. “It might not even be death, it might just be something that happens. And sometimes you don’t realize how much you have until something major happens. Then you realize, ‘Damn, I’ve wasted so much time bothering about stuff that doesn’t matter.’ Turning points can either make or break people.” This album ends on Chinouriri’s own turning point: “Pocket,” a sweet song about new, better love that Chinouriri promised she’d give to the person who finally allowed her to feel it, followed by her acoustic version of “So My Darling,” the song that started this wild ride in the first place. Here, Chinouriri takes us through her debut, track by track. **“Garden of Eden”** “I wrote this after my big LA trip feeling like, ‘This \[the UK\] is home for me.’ I’m just adamant I want a house in the countryside. Where I grew up in Croydon isn’t that, but it was quiet, and I would always hear birds and see fields and grass. We were in a room \[in a studio in the UK countryside, where Chinouriri went after LA\] and would always have the recording on, and the birds were that loud. I was like, ‘Let’s just maybe make it a soundscape where you’re just falling into this situation.’ It’s setting the scene.” **“The Hills”** “We’ve left the Garden of Eden now and I’m like, ‘Right, I don’t belong here.’ The music video shows \[me\], a Black woman, walking across some flags, and people have said, ‘Oh, she’s talking about how she doesn’t belong in the UK,’ but I’m actually talking about how much I *do* belong. It’s almost seeing those street parties where they’ve got all the flags and being like, ‘I’m as English as you guys, so I belong here and I’ll be staying here whether you like it or not.’ The song is definitely a headbanging, screaming moment—it has a bit of an American-boy-band-in-a-basement, kids-in-a-garage vibe. It felt like a relief to have something after a trip where we didn’t have much, especially after five weeks.” **“Never Need Me”** “After I wrote this, I didn’t even send it to the label. A few days later, I was at a festival and my manager came to me and said, ‘Why didn’t you send us this song? Oli \[Bayston, one of the song’s co-writers\] sent it to us.’ I said, ‘I don’t like it, I think it’s a terrible song.’ I think it was because of its meaning. And in the session, I was just so angry and annoyed and in such an agitated mood. I felt uninspired. But later, I said, ‘If I can do it however I want, I’ll finish the song.’ So I went to \[songwriter\] Glen Roberts and changed all the production—I was thinking Kings of Leon and heavy guitars.” **“My Everything”** “This song is about giving your all to everyone. My project before this album, *Four° in Winter*, was very experimental and wonky. I knew I was hitting some pop territories with this album, but I think there are still wonky elements to me. I really love Ladysmith Black Mambazo and how they use their voice almost as the instruments. I just liked being in the studio and coming up with weird sounds with my voice. I don’t even want to know how many vocal tracks are on that—but it was a lot! I don’t know if people will like it, but I wanted to show all the different parts of who I am.” **“All I Ever Asked”** “Again, I didn’t want it on the album. But now I realize this song is important and a way people discovered me \[it was a single in 2022\]. I think I’m actually quite a dark person because I’m a Scorpio. Whether you believe in star signs or not, I’ve always gravitated towards dark lyrics to a point where I don’t think sad lyrics really hit me anymore. But there’s also a degree of making light of situations. Because as much as \[what inspired this song\] is sad, it’s also like, ‘You’ll live. He was an asshole. There are plenty more people you can meet in this world.’ There’s light that can come to those situations.” **“It Is What It Is”** “When I was doing \[the speak-singing here\], I was like, ‘Maybe I’m going to sound a bit like a loser.’ I’m not really rapping, I’m talking, and then obviously I have this English accent. I don’t want to say I have a boring voice, but when I’m speaking, I think I sound quite monotone. But what I’m saying is, ‘You are a fucking arsehole.’ This one’s for my girls and boys who have definitely felt this multiple times. Mae Muller is on this track. She is that person who will be like, ‘Absolutely not.’ I’ll go out and look at someone slightly questionable and be like, ‘I fancy him.’ She’ll go to the bathroom and be like, ‘Rachel, love you so much. No, no, you’re not doing that.’ And I’ll be like, ‘OK.’” **“Dumb Bitch Juice”** “This was very much Amy Winehouse-inspired—I know it’s not Amy Winehouse at all, but she had this ability to sing in quite a free and melodic way, but you can hear every single thing she says. When I wrote this, I was like, ‘I’m here to insult today.’ Not just insulting someone else—insulting myself too. Because sometimes men are terrible, but there’s also a degree of ‘You have allowed someone to treat you like that.’ Of course I’ve been heartbroken by an absolute idiot because I’m drinking dumb bitch juice!” **“What a Devastating Turn of Events”** “All my siblings were born in Africa, I’m the only one who was born in the UK. There’s a set of relatives who know I exist, but I’ve not met most of them—I have no clue who they are, but my siblings grew up with them. And when she \[Chinouriri’s cousin, the subject of this song\] died, my siblings were devastated. I was sad about someone I didn’t know. I constantly thought about it and wondered how it had happened. I had gone through something similar; being able to write about it has been kind of helpful for me to understand my own situation and stuff that I’ve gone through. Sonically, I never thought we needed a big chorus. It’s a different verse and different chorus every single time. Then there’s just this kind of chanting thing—I think that’s maybe where my African influence is coming, the marching and the pace of the drum and everyone singing as a group. We all sat in the studio with a mic and just screamed, ‘What a devastating turn of events.’ I think there’s a degree of sorrow that comes along, kind of trudging through this very sad story. This is a very important one.” **“My Blood”** “I wanted a song where there’s not necessarily continuation, but which speaks about things which people might do as a cry for help. You should always watch when things like that happen to people. I went through a phase where I was pulling out my own hair—it was a stress thing. It started making me think about when I was younger and there was self-harm things. It was visualizing looking in a mirror and being like, ‘Why am I doing this to myself?’ But it’s also these invisible wounds. The strings here add so much to the song—the cinematic-ness of it is definitely influenced by Daughter. I wanted to get people to feel. It sounds very sad from top to bottom, but I hope people listen to it and think, ‘Wow.’” **“Robbed”** “There was a baby in our family who passed away, and I felt like I was robbed of them. I was a bit more poetic in this song, but it’s almost considering people I’d not met that had such a massive effect on me. You can be robbed of time sometimes, with people or family. When stuff like that happens, the people around you are always like, ‘It’ll be OK. I’m sorry that happened.’ And actually, sometimes it’s OK to just be like, ‘That was fucking shit. That was horrible and this is unfair.’ That was the kind of emotion I wanted to translate in these songs.” **“Cold Call”** “I was really inspired by Coldplay’s ‘Politik.’ It’s just mind-blowing. I’m quite obsessed with Coldplay and I asked my team to show them the song. I know that they liked it—it meant a lot. They are my inspiration for a lot of things. I think it feels like a universal song. It’s kind of like, ‘I’ve had enough of this now, I’m not doing that anymore.’” **“I Hate Myself”** “I like how this ends with me reflecting on the positive. I’ve felt some very negative things, which I’ve been lucky enough to stop in their tracks. I mean, ‘a victim of your mind’ is one of the lyrics here. I wrote this with \[producer and songwriter\] Jonah Summerfield and he was like, ‘Oh, this is pretty deep.’ But sometimes when you put your thoughts on paper, you can read it back and think, ‘That was ridiculous.’ I looked back at this and thought, ‘That was a really stupid thing for me to even put myself through.’ You have to learn to love yourself—and hope that as a society we can really unlearn the treatment of people for being different sizes. Being able to write music has been a combination of me unlearning and learning so much about myself. And I think I can see how my self-esteem really skyrocketed the song in many ways.” **“Pocket”** “When I wrote this, I’d gone through all my phases of being like, ‘Men are trash, men are toxic.’ Then I was kind of like, ‘Well that’s just BS. I was just choosing terrible men. And there are actually nice ones if you allow yourself to be loved. So I’m going to write a song about how I would like to be loved.’ I thought, ‘When I find someone, I’m going to give them this song.’ And when I started dating my boyfriend, I said, ‘There’s this song I have.’” **“So My Darling (Acoustic)”** “The song is like six years old, so it’s a nostalgic way to end the album. You’ve gone through this journey of \[mostly\] new songs, and then you get thrown back into one that everyone knows. I wanted the whole album to sound and feel nostalgic for being a Black Brit, so to end on something nostalgic for the fans was really important. I think the whole album is very nostalgic of maybe my home life, but for the fans, it’s nostalgic for them.”

“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.”

In the early 2000s, few would have bet on The Libertines making it to a fourth album album at all, let alone one as robust as *All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade*. Intra-band strife, prison, and Pete Doherty’s well-documented drug problems seemed to have scuppered the mercurial talent shown on 2002 debut *Up the Bracket* and 2004’s self-titled follow-up for good. However, following 2015’s galvanizing reformation album, *Anthems for Doomed Youth*, *All Quiet on the Eastern Esplanade* finds the good ship Albion coming ashore with one of the strongest sets of songs of the band’s career. On an album recorded at The Albion Rooms, the group’s studio-cum-hotel in (UK seaside town) Margate, Kent, the ramshackle charm which sometimes felt like their songs could collapse at any moment has been bolstered by something far more muscular and sturdy. Rollicking opening track “Run Run Run” lands like The Clash at their anthemic peak, while closer “Songs They Never Play on the Radio” transforms a tune Doherty has been tinkering with in various forms for years into a swooning, Beatles-esque ballad. Where Libertines songs of old sprung from a mythical vision of England conjured from Doherty and fellow singer/guitarist/songwriter Carl Barât’s imagination, here they’re more rooted in the here and now. “Mustangs” is populated by a litany of colorful characters observed around Margate, Barât singing about day-drinking mums, day-dreaming nuns, and 24/7 ne’er-do-wells over a glorious Stones-y groove. While “Merry Old England” looks at a land of discarded crisp packets and B&B vouchers from the perspective of migrants traveling to the UK looking for work. “It’s a rich tapestry,” Doherty tells Apple Music. “It’s not just about Margate, it’s about England. I don’t think the English realize how the rest of the world gazes upon us with curiosity and wonder and bafflement, really.” Read on for Doherty and Barât’s track-by-track guide. **“Run Run Run”** PD: “It’s a bit of a belter that one, I love it. It’s got a bit of a Squeeze thing going on.” CB: “The song doesn’t have to be about running away from your past. It’s about running because that’s what you do. It can be in terror, or it can be a thing of great elation or purpose.” PD: “It’s just how you get your kicks, baby.” CB: “Yeah. It can be processing a trauma or getting your kicks. Either way.” **“Mustangs”** PD: “We spent an endless amount of time trying to get this together which isn’t normally our style. At one point it had 10 verses.” CB: “It was like a Velvet Underground epic. It was my \[T.S. Eliot poem\] ‘The Waste Land.’ It took a lot of shuffling in the sand to get that one to settle. It’s got a summer air to it, that kind of looseness. It’s got a Lou Reed-y narrative to it about all these characters in Margate.” **“I Have a Friend”** CB: “That’s a topical song given it’s about war and what’s going on in Ukraine.” PD: “It’s hard to look away from that. A few of us in the band have got Russian and Ukrainian roots. It was too much for me to take, we had to sit down and talk about it which merged into ‘I Have a Friend.’ It was just a desperate cry from all the darkness and confusion of all of this. I kept saying, ‘NATO are going to step in any day, are we too old to enlist?’ I said to my wife, ‘We can’t just sit here and watch it, we’ve got to go!’ She said, ’We’ve got a two-week-old baby.’” **“Merry Old England”** PD: “The people who travel here and risk life and limb to come to England and try and make a life for themselves is something we spend quite a lot of time talking about. A lot of these people are trained doctors, they speak four or five languages. It’s not that I’m pro-illegal immigration, I’ve just got this thing against borders. It’s very easy to create fear and anger and hostility about people.” CB: “It’s about discussing something that’s topical. There’s no didactic approach from us. Maybe we do have opinions, but it’s just a good song.” **“Man With the Melody”** CB: “That’s as old as time, that song.” PD: “From back when we were in Kentish Town. We didn’t have a B&B or our own recording studio or a bar. All we had was John \[Hassall, bassist\]’s basement with our little amps. He’d sit there in his skintight Dairy Queen T-shirt and his cowboy boots strumming this mad little song. We were secretly jealous of it because it was so melodic. So we took it apart, stripped it down and put it back together, put our own bits in and gave it a lick of paint. It’s got this creeping, gothic, Bram Stoker-ish element to it.” CB: “That’s Gary \[Powell, drummer\]’s singing debut. I think it’s the first time we’ve all sung on a song and shared it like that.” **“Oh Shit”** CB: “It’s essentially about the proprietor of The Albion Rooms and her husband. It’s about these young people jacking in their lives and just doing something different and worlds apart. It’s that sort of romance of the road, having no regard for their own immediate safety or life past what’s just straight in front of their faces, and being in love and all the experiences that come with that.” **“Night of the Hunter”** PD: “There’s a lot of references to tattoos. I’ve always been fascinated by that thing of ‘love’ and ‘hate’ tattooed on the knuckles. When we play it live it really slows down and I like this idea of all these people singing along to ‘ACAB’ which stands for ‘All coppers are bastards,’ which is an old skinhead tattoo. Prison is mostly full of young men, but you always get that old lag in there and they’ve got these weird tattoos and you make the mistake of asking, ‘Oh, what do those dots mean?’ Then you’re like, ‘Oh, fuck…’ You hear some really dark stuff.” **“Baron’s Claw”** PD: “That was mostly born in The Albion Rooms. We were all sleeping there and trying to put the album together. I had these chords and I was playing them and Carl’s room is directly above where I was sitting. It was six or seven in the morning and I was playing it louder and louder, just hoping that it would somehow penetrate his dreams. So I opened the window and then I was playing it on the stairs. He finally came down a bit grumpy, as he tends to be in the morning, and I thought, ‘I’ll wait for him to say something…’ And he didn’t. I waited and waited and then finally I got a little ‘So, was that a new tune, then?’ \[from him\]. Because I don’t think he believed it was.” CB: “You’re lucky. In the old days, if you were playing outside my window I would have told you to shut the fuck up.” PD: “The song’s about this quite shameful episode in our history when we \[Britain\] funded the White Russians against the Bolsheviks. This guy is over there with a unit of White Russians fighting the Red Army and then comes back without a hand. Is it based on a true story? Why not? It could have happened!” **“Shiver”** PD: “If you did a DNA test on that song it would be 23 percent me, 25 percent American bully, a bit of sausage dog, a bit of Scottish terrier, a dash of dachshund…It went on a lot of weird deviations that song.” CB: “We were in Jamaica and we wrote a really misty-eyed ballad about 25 years of friendship and going from rack and ruin and dreams and reasons for staying alive. We cut it down and used the middle eight for ‘Shiver’ and the other song got thrown on the scrapheap. That’s how decadent art can be.” PD: “It turns out with ‘Shiver’ that we’ve actually made a half-decent pop song. That song’s had more radio play in its first month than \[debut single\] ‘What a Waster’ has had in 25 years.” **“Be Young”** PD: “The message of this song was to be young and fall in love, because we were coming out with all this depressing data about the planet’s impending doom. We wrote it in Jamaica as this hurricane was crashing through the Caribbean. We just thought, ‘Well, we’ve got all this stuff in here about being born astride a grave and the world boiling in oil, so let’s throw in a chorus about just being young and in love.’” CB: “It’s difficult to write a song like that. Jim Morrison could say, ‘I just want to get my kicks before the whole shithouse goes up in flames.’ But he died in 1971, do you know what I mean? Now, you can’t have that mentality. You can’t say, ‘Just be young and fall in love.’” PD: “A lot of people do though, a lot of them just don’t give a fuck.” CB: “And more fool them.” **“Songs They Never Play on the Radio”** PD: “We got that song together years ago, at the very beginning. It’s got a checkered past. It’s like an old mate who you really believed in and you’ll always have a place for him in your heart, but he just sort of seemed to fade away. But then, it turns out he’s written the jingle for the new Audi advert and he’s sitting in a fucking mansion.” CB: “The bastard.” PD: “I took it under my wing and made it all jangly and jazzy. I could never quite do it with Babyshambles and I could never quite do it on my own, so I brought it to the table for this one. And then John said, ‘Why don’t you try it like this?’ He turned it into this Beatles thing, and it completely turned it on its head. I was aghast. We wrote another verse, gave it a lick of paint and here it is.”

There was a point early in the creation of the swaggering second record by Yard Act when the Leeds quartet realized they were holding themselves back and needed to let go. “We were putting some drones and synths on the track ‘Fizzy Fish,’ which was the first one we wrote for the record, and someone raised the point that we weren’t going to be able to do it live,” vocalist James Smith tells Apple Music. “But we quickly agreed we’d worry about that later. Once we cut our losses with the idea of how we could do it, there was no real discussion on the areas the album went to.” That sense of daring is at the heart of *Where’s My Utopia?*. The four-piece has emerged with a kaleidoscopic pop record that dramatically builds upon the playful post-punk of their 2022 debut *The Overload*, its expansive sound taking in Gorillaz-meets-Ian Dury future funk, art-rock wigouts, orchestral epics, careening disco punk, and explosive indie sing-alongs. *The Overload* earned them a Mercury nomination and the chance to rerecord 2022 single “100% Endurance” with star fan Elton John, and its follow-up finds Smith searching for meaning in the wake of all his dreams coming true. “The record is about me realizing that the thing I’d wanted since being a teenager wasn’t going to magically solve all the problems that I live with,” Smith explains, “and the idea that everyone just has problems regardless of what position they’re in. I’m starting to wonder now if we just create them for ourselves because it shouldn’t be this hard.” It’s a narrative arc delivered with Smith’s trademark humor but always laced with poignancy, their anthemic hooks even sharper than those that fired their debut to success. *Where’s My Utopia?* is a bold, brilliant second album from one of the decade’s most imaginative bands. Smith guides us through it, track by track. **“An Illusion”** “This song definitely sets the score for ‘This isn’t a minimalist guitar post-punk album this time.’ The chorus lyric really sets up the whole premise of the situation I ended up in—that I’m in love with an illusion—and the idea that being in a successful band would solve my problems. Then, whilst my head was so buried in this world that I couldn’t get out of because of how much energy and time it was sucking out of me, all my other principles fell by the wayside. This song’s probably harder on myself than most are. The verses are about me being pissed, which I was for 18 months, and basically being just a bit useless, which I’ve got out of now. I stopped drinking off the back of the touring, I learned that I had to.” **“We Make Hits”** “This was one of the last songs written. We wrote it in Ryan \[Needham, bassist\]’s spare bedroom in a break from touring. I think Ryan had been going for that kind of French disco, Daft Punk, Justice vibes and everything fell out of me quite fast. I started by writing the story of me and Ryan and how we started the band. With this song, we were acknowledging that we’d always had ambition and we’d always wanted to do something bigger with music. Even though, at our core, all we wanted to do was make music, we always knew we would quite like to see what it was like on the other side and achieve something.” **“Down by the Stream”** “This was written in Turin. Everyone else had gone out for a meal and I decided to stay in the hotel room and wrote it using Jay \[Russell, drummer\]’s laptop. I’ve been looking back on my childhood a little bit more since my son was born and projecting him into scenarios I was in, even though historical truth and accuracy is a vague thing in terms of songwriting. It’s not literal, but it draws on my childhood. I was framing myself as this struggling person who was having a bit of a rough time, doing the woe-is-me thing about being in a successful band. I realized that if I was going to ask that empathy of the listener, then I should make sure that there was some corruption within me as well and highlight that I’m not some innocent person. It’s me dragging myself through the mud to let people know that I’m capable of being a dickhead just like everyone else.” **“The Undertow”** “‘Down by the Stream’ starts by the stream and then the stream leads to the sea, and that’s where the sharks start circling. We’ve ended up at sea on ‘The Undertow.’ The stream is the journey into adulthood and the sea is the murky open waters of adulthood and being out on your own in the big, bad world, then getting caught by the undertow of the industry. This is a thank-you note to my wife, really, who’s supported me through this entire caper that I’ve ended up on and been solid as a rock through it. There’s a part of me that’ll never be able to understand why I was selfish enough to do this for a living and leave my family behind to do it, so I’ll always live with that.” **“Dream Job”** “I caught myself writing the chorus in an interview when we were in Europe. Someone asked how it felt to have done a song with Elton John and have a Mercury nomination and all these things and I wasn’t really in the room and I just went, ‘Yeah, it’s ace, it’s wicked.’ I just started listing all these positive words without actually taking stock of what they were saying. It’s funny because I don’t really know how those things have affected me. I definitely wanted them and I’m glad I got them but they just happen and you move on. You get asked about them a lot, and the truth is that you don’t really think of them. I feel like the second you start wearing your achievements with pride, you’re dead in the water. I think the whole album is trying to strike that balance between being cynical and maybe a bit arsey, but also going, at the same time, ‘Things are great!’ It can be both, and it is both for us, and that’s life, even if it’s your life or my life in this band I’m in.” **“Fizzy Fish”** “The lyrics changed a lot on this one—I was literally writing about Fizzy Fish sweets for about three verses originally. With those seeds, you don’t really know where you’re going with them a lot of the time, but you let your mind chase after it and see where it goes. The Fizzy Fish, it was nostalgia, it was going back to the playground and that’s me having a conversation with another version of me from my childhood or a parallel universe. Again, it’s set in a lake, going with the water theme, because that’s a stagnant body of water that’s separate from the sea. It stands alone from the rest of the album. It’s set in my subconscious. ‘The Undertow’ through to ‘Grifter’s Grief’ is one narrative arc that follows me going into this successful Yard Act. ‘Fizzy Fish’ is me learning to cope with this newfound spotlight and who I am, whether I’ve changed from who I was, whether that’s positive or negative and the fact you have to create new masks to deal with a public-facing job because you don’t want to give too much of yourself away but, ultimately, to connect with people is the entire reason you’re making music.” **“Petroleum”** “This is based on an incident that happened at a gig at Bognor Regis at the start of 2023, the point within the story where I hit the bottom. I bottled the gig. Not anything drastic, we got through a set, but I was really disappointed in myself and my performance that night. I told the audience I was bored and I didn’t want to be there. We’d bitten off more than we could chew and I hadn’t had a break in 18 months, and I had a bad gig. This looks at the idea of what is expected of musicians when they perform live and this consumerist demand that they deliver. I realized that people don’t actually want honesty, they want the version of honesty they’ve paid to see. It’s learning to deal with these extra masks that we develop. I was trying to get to the core of ‘How can I channel a true version of how I’m feeling into an enjoyable performance that people deserve to see?’ This whole song reignited my passion for playing live and I’ve since learned how to process my emotions and funnel them into a performance that creates something that I’m proud of.” **“When the Laughter Stops” (feat. Katy J Pearson)** “It’s maybe a reaction to a lot of people saying, ‘Oh, Yard Act is the fun band, the jokers, and they don’t take it too seriously,’ and we don’t—because you can’t—but it’s that whole sad-clown complex. We’re not base level: We feel things just the same as everyone else! A lot of this album is rooted in that paranoia of not being able to maintain this—because it felt like I couldn’t do it if what it took to make a living from this job was those first 18 months over and over again. Fortunately, it’s changed, it’s fine but it has to stay at this level for it to be OK. If it drops back below, it’s hard work being in a band.” **“Grifter’s Grief”** “This is to do with the fact that my entire job now is based around sucking electricity out of giant venues and getting on aeroplanes and constantly burning up road miles and air miles and sea miles just to selfishly make a living whilst the planet burns. I spoke to my dad about it and he was kicking off about something and I was like, ‘Yeah but, Dad, I do that, I get on planes all the time.’ He went, ‘Yeah, but you need to do it to work.’ And I was like, ‘But I don’t. I could get a job that doesn’t involve that.’ It’s that everyone’s selfish inherently, I think.” **“Blackpool Illuminations”** “This is probably the most important song on the album. When we do the zany and comical stuff, we’re always trying to do it so you can pull the rug from under people with a song like this and prove what we’re capable of if we really put our minds to it. We supported Foals in Blackpool in May 2022. I had such nostalgic memories of Blackpool from going as a kid. My wife and son came and joined us for those two nights with Foals, and we had a couple of days and weekend in Blackpool because I wanted to show my baby where I had holidays as a child. Seeing him walking along the promenade, I saw myself in him and realized that he was just following the exact same footsteps that I did when I was a kid. \[The song\] follows my journey through childhood to that moment, really—these footprints of the past that we leave and then the future treads over them in a very similar way.” **“A Vineyard for the North”** “This is the note of hope that comes at the end. Climate change punctuates the album but I didn’t want to write too heavily about it. I read an article that French vineyard owners are starting to buy land in the south of England—because of the rising temperature, the south of England is now \[in\] prime condition for growing grapes for champagne. I was thinking how, as it gets hotter, it works its way up the country. It’s clutching at straws in a sense but it’s more to do with human nature and our ability to adapt and problem solve. I don’t think the answer is that everyone in the north starts buying vineyards and growing grapes. But, in essence, it is that things will change and we’ll have to adapt, and there’s hope and there are avenues we can always take.”