Rolling Stone's 100 Best Albums of 2024

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

“This album is actually an album of questioning. There\'s a lot of introspection, and within that, I\'m answering questions that I\'ve never had the space or capacity to ask,” Brittany Howard tells Apple Music about *What Now*, the Alabama Shakes singer-guitarist’s second solo album. “I was always so busy, I was always running around, I was on tour, I was preparing this, preparing that. This time I told myself when I would go in there and make songs in my little demo room, ‘No one\'s ever going to hear this,’ and it was very freeing.” Of course, people would end up hearing those songs, but that mindset helped Howard write from a brave new perspective. She dives into her personal history and guiding philosophy in a vulnerable way, like she did on 2019’s *Jaime*, but this time, the instrumental choices are bolder and more unexpected than ever before. “Power to Undo” is a folk-rock tune that showcases the album’s central theme. “You have the power to undo everything that I want/But I won\'t let you,” she sings. Once that’s revealed, the song descends into an acid-funk freakout, built around scratchy guitars and ramshackle drums. “‘Power to Undo’ is actually about freedoms,” she says. “A lot of people can experience this feeling of ‘I know I shouldn\'t do that. I know I need to keep moving in this direction.’ It\'s just about this thing chasing you down, and you\'re like, ‘No, you\'re not going to get me, I\'m not going to change directions.’” Elsewhere, on “Prove It to You,” Howard cues up gauzy synths and a dance-floor drum groove that’s made for an after-hours. It’s the furthest from the rootsy rock Howard rose to fame with, but the creative risks of *What Now* suggest an artist more interested in following a muse than replicating past successes. “I am always expanding and evolving and trying new things,” Howard says. “That\'s the most fun about being a creative person—trying things that challenge you and you don\'t know anything about.”

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

Listening to Adrianne Lenker’s music can feel like finding an old love letter in a library book: somehow both painfully direct and totally mysterious at the same time, filled with gaps in logic and narrative that only confirm how intimate the connection between writer and reader is. Made with a small group in what one imagines is a warm and secluded room, *Bright Future* captures the same folksy wonder and open-hearted intensity of Big Thief but with a slightly quieter approach, conjuring visions of creeks and twilights, dead dogs (“Real House”) and doomed relationships (“Vampire Empire”) so vivid you can feel the humidity pouring in through the screen door. She’s vulnerable enough to let her voice warble and crack and confident enough to linger there for as long as it takes to get her often devastating emotional point across. “Just when I thought I couldn’t feel more/I feel a little more,” she sings on “Free Treasure.” Believe her.

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.”

Whereas Omar Apollo’s 2022 debut, *Ivory*, showed off his polymath pop stylings, follow-up *God Said No* is more cynical and circumspect: He’s seen the other side, and the glamour of stardom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Despite the album’s rather downcast outlook, Apollo continues to populate his songs with candy-sweet melodies and inventive textures that separate him from pop’s mainstream pack. Take “Spite,” which gallops along with pulsing tom drums and a whimsical synth hook that Apollo engages with in a call-and-response format. Is it worse to feel love in a diminished form or spend the night alone? The Indiana-born songwriter relishes these moments of pain, because they often yield his best writing. He tells Apple Music, “It was a dark time in my life, but usually when I’m in that zone of uncomfort, I get a lot done. I learn a lot about myself, the introspective thoughts start to surface, and I’m able to write how I’m feeling.” Despite this, Apollo ultimately sees the album as a testament to his self-improvement and growth as an artist and person. “I had to be the best version of myself…rewiring my brain to think in that way, somebody who deserves all this,” he says. “I have this, I can do this. This is different.”

The Red Clay Strays are carrying the torch for Southern rock. The Mobile, Alabama, band find the sweet spot between swampy throwback rock and of-the-moment Americana with *Made by These Moments*, produced by the beloved Dave Cobb (Jason Isbell, Sturgill Simpson). Buoyed by the viral hit “Wondering Why” from the band’s 2022 release *Moment of Truth*, this follow-up comes as The Red Clay Strays find wider prominence, including an Emerging Artist of the Year nomination at the 2024 Americana Music Honors & Awards. *Made by These Moments* opens with “Disaster,” a slow-building apocalypse anthem with echoes of Nathaniel Rateliff and early Kings of Leon. “No One Else Like Me” is a melodic showcase for vocalist Brandon Coleman, who knows when to wail and when to hold back and can wring emotion out of even the quietest note. Other highlights include the crackling, downtrodden “Drowning,” which guitarist Drew Nix wrote while struggling to make ends meet earlier in the band’s career, and “On My Knees,” a bona fide foot-stomper with major Allman Brothers vibes, slide guitar and all.

Arooj Aftab’s star-making 2021 album *Vulture Prince* was marked by a distinct and undeniable sadness—a chronicle of grief following the death of Aftab’s younger brother Maher, whom the record was dedicated to. Despite its many contributors, *Vulture Prince* felt nearly monastic in sound and focus, conjuring images of someone processing pain alone and amidst the cosmos, and since its release, the Pakistani American singer and composer has opened up her sonic world to increasingly thrilling effect. *Love in Exile*, released in 2023, found Aftab expanding the jazz side of her sound in collaboration with jazz pianist Vijay Iyer and multi-instrumentalist Shahzad Ismaily, and now her fourth solo album *Night Reign* reflects her biggest leap yet. It’s the kind of record that makes you realize that Aftab can, when it comes to songwriting and style, do pretty much anything—from smoldering balladry à la the late Jeff Buckley and Sade’s endless-sounding quiet storm to trip-hop’s shadowy iridescence—without losing an ounce of raw emotion. Similar to *Vulture Prince*, *Night Reign* features a bevy of notable musicians pitching in throughout: Moor Mother delivers raw incantations over the foreboding structure of “Bolo Na,” while Iyer’s keystrokes are deeply felt across the patient tapestry of “Saaqi” and guitarist Kaki King lends her considerable talents to the refracted jazz-folk of “Last Night Reprise.” But it’s Aftab’s voice—rich, resonant, malleable, and instantly recognizable—that provides the true gravitational pull at the center of *Night Reign*’s universe, echoing through the sparse rustling of “Raat Ki Rani” and shimmering on the surface of the devastating closer “Zameen.” In the press materials for *Night Reign*, Aftab expresses a desire to “make music with and for everybody,” and this record is undoubtedly the fullest realization of those aims yet, revealing new contours in her songwriting and further cementing her as a singular talent in popular music.

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

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

Based on the energy of Charly Bliss’ third album, *Forever*, the New York quartet decided at some point between this 2024 release and its predecessor, 2019’s *Young Enough*, to turn things up to 11, expanding upon the scuzzy, DIY pop punk they conjured on those first two records, and making everything bolder, louder, and more intentional. “Calling You Out” is a yearning and clever portrait of a relationship in distress, with vocalist Eva Hendricks pleading, “I wanna be the one to love you, not calling you out.” Acoustic guitars intermingle with synths, providing the song with intoxicating interplay between the synthetic and organic. “I’m Not Dead” features guitars taken from the alt-rock ’90s, but Hendricks infuses the song with a declaration that demands living life to the fullest: “I’m not, I’m not dead/Even if I was/I’d wish that I’d fucked up/At least twice as much and had like double the fun.”

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

Throughout hip-hop history, New York has produced several of the biggest and most iconic female stars. A genuine breakout talent in her city’s abundant pool of drill artists, Bronx rap phenom Ice Spice earned the blessing of no less than Nicki Minaj after “Munch (Feelin’ U)” went from delightfully viral to utterly ubiquitous. Collabs with the Queen from Queens like “Princess Diana” put the outer-borough upstart in a rarefied space as she amassed other hits including “Gangsta Boo” and the Taylor Swift team-up “Karma.” Roughly two years after making such a strong first impression, Ice Spice looks to cement her place in the game with *Y2K!*. Named in honor of her January 1, 2000, birthdate, her debut album may not be materially that much longer than the preceding *Like..?* EP. Nonetheless, it augments her sonic world in exciting ways while maintaining the brash authenticity that got her to this point. Though perennial studio partner RIOTUSA remains at the production helm, the beat choices here skew darker and harder than one might expect. The dissonant rhythmic thump of “BB Belt” and menacing synth stabs of “Plenty Sun” soundtrack pointed and pithy verses intended to cut down the competition. Even though a handful of the titles may verge on the scatological, punchlines like “Spent 150 on some carats/That shit cray like them n\*\*\*\*s in Paris” keep songs like “Think U the Shit (Fart)” feeling sharp rather than sophomoric. The exclusive guest list here reflects her elite status, wrangling Travis Scott for the victorious “Oh Shhh…” and then Gunna for the badass team-up “Bitch I’m Packin’.”

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

Fueled by a steady stream of viral or otherwise popular singles, Xavi rose to música mexicana prominence in what feels like a relatively short time frame. Major chart moments like “La Diabla” and “La Victima” at the end of 2023 set in motion a momentous rise for the Mexican American singer, his tumbados románticos style resonating for obvious reasons. Several—though conspicuously not all—of his accumulating 2024 hits and fan favorites appear alongside brand-new tracks on *NEXT*, an album that serves as a snapshot of his success so far. With seemingly autobiographical corridos like “La Diosa” and “Peak” in the mix, he mirrors the attitude found on the previously released “Corazón de Piedra” or “Poco A Poco.” Proving ever adaptable to whatever the situation may require, he approaches matters of the heart with doe-eyed tenderness on “La Luna X Mi” and brusque desire on “Que Hay Que Hacer.”

Adeem the Artist digs deeper into their roots on *Anniversary*, the follow-up to the singer-songwriter’s critically acclaimed 2022 record *White Trash Revelry*. A native of the lower Piedmont region in the American southeast, Adeem builds upon the country-inflected folk of past releases to include the blues music that makes up their heritage, finding musical and thematic connections along the way. “Socialite Blues” pairs the Piedmont blues sound with a modern narrative, with an especially charismatic vocal from Adeem. “Rotations” is a clever and heartfelt spin on parenthood, with a gentle arrangement that suits the song’s tender message. And “One Night Stand” makes the case that Adeem could just as easily be a pop country hitmaker, using a big, hooky chorus to center a queer narrative. Adeem recorded the LP with producer Butch Walker in Nashville, setting up for a few days at renowned local studio The Butcher Shoppe. Players on *Anniversary* include Ellen Angelico, Aaron Lee Tasjan, and Megan Coleman, and the record boasts Adeem’s most expansive sound yet, complete with a horn section.

“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.”

Sam Shepherd’s not-quite-techno is the 21st-century equivalent of good progressive rock or jazz fusion: sophisticated, intelligent music whose outward sense of exploration mirrors an almost psychedelic journey within. Inspired by his teenage epiphanies with techno in Manchester in the late ’90s and early 2000s, *Cascade* is easily his most immediate album: “club bangers” (“Key103”), acid bass (“Afflecks Palace”), even a little Giorgio Moroder-style Eurodisco for good historical measure (“Birth4000”). The beats are nakedly 4/4 and the surrounding ambience the kind of moody, infinitely cascading synth tapestries you might find on a psytrance mix, rendered with a grace that makes them feel paradoxically subtle. Having done complicated, Shepherd makes it simple.

Like most things Stephen Malkmus touches, this meeting of four gracefully aging indie rockers—Malkmus, Matt Sweeney (Superwolf, Chavez), Emmett Kelly (Bonnie “Prince” Billy, The Cairo Gang), and Dirty Three drummer Jim White—feels both totally unambitious yet perfectly refined. They know their influences and wear them with the weathered cool of a patch-covered jean jacket: the cocky glam of Sweet (“Earth Hater,” “Action for Military Boys”), the shambling power pop of Big Star (“Rio’s Song,” “Our Hometown Boy”), the psychedelia of early Pink Floyd (“Chrome Mess”). But the musicianship is great, the songs fun and characteristically oblique (“Six Deaf Rats”), and the sense of nostalgia joyful without ever getting cute or overbearing. Having collectively played on dozens if not hundreds of albums since the early ’90s, they make the kind of cool, used-bin curiosity that might’ve turned them on as “kids.” What better tribute to your love of the game?

The first sign that a new era had arrived was Camila Cabello’s platinum blonde locks. Then came “I LUV IT,” the shake-up of a lead single for the Miami native’s fourth studio album—loud, brash, and diamond-hard, with a hook that interpolates a 2009 Gucci Mane classic (“Lemonade”) and an expressionistic verse from Playboi Carti. Speaking to Apple Music’s Zane Lowe, the 27-year-old singer emphasizes *C,XOXO*’s most crucial evolution: For the first time in her career, the songwriting feels like her own. “Letting go of the safety net of other co-writers in the room allowed for there to be more space for me to hear my own voice,” she tells Lowe. “When you are younger, you feel like you are looking for other people to point out the way a little bit more, and that voice inside you, you’re listening to, but you don’t totally trust. I think as I’ve gotten older, I’m like, you know what? I’m just going to listen to myself. I’m comfortable being, like, it’s on me today, and whether it fails or succeeds, I can trust myself to do it.” Call it a vibe shift or a reintroduction or, as Cabello cheekily called *C,XOXO*, her “hyper-femme villain arc,” with dreamy production from Spain’s El Guincho. There are odes to her tropical hometown, as she recruits City Girls to twerk out the sunroof on Collins Avenue for “Dade County Dreaming.” She’s covered in glitter and dressed for revenge on “pretty when i cry” and tempting an ex on the scorching “HOT UPTOWN,” which features Drake in peak *Honestly, Nevermind* form. Things get deeper on moody, wispy tracks like “June Gloom” and “Twentysomethings,” downcast odes to messy, complicated relationships: “Twentysomethings, gotta have a sense of humor/When it comes to us/Don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” she coos on the latter. But it’s the gorgeous and strange “Chanel No.5” that best represents Cabello as a songwriter. It’s an ethereal experiment she describes as having “pop melodies, but with rap structure,” with twinkly piano and lyrical nods to Haruki Murakami and Quentin Tarantino, spritzes of perfume, and chipped nail polish. “It is the thesis statement for the album,” she tells Lowe. “I was like, this is literally the voice of *C,XOXO*. It’s playful. She’s in control. She’s putting on her lip gloss. She’s toying with this guy. She’s magical. She’s sensitive.”

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

Charley Crockett is a rare talent. His voice is one of country music’s finest, a rich baritone with a natural ache and emotion-wringing agility. That he pairs such a voice with an equally powerful flair for storytelling lands him among the ranks of the genre’s new saviors, like Tyler Childers or Sturgill Simpson, but with a style and sound all his own. That sound owes a lot to Crockett’s home state of Texas, which often serves as a character in his narrative-driven songs. On *$10 Cowboy*, Crockett found inspiration on the road, writing much of the album while touring in support of its predecessor, 2022’s concept record *The Man From Waco*. That journeyman’s perspective brings us stories of hitting rock bottom (“Gettin’ Tired Again”), chasing Lady Luck (“Ain’t Done Losing Yet”), and hanging on to love while “empire…rule\[s\] the world” (“Diamond in the Rough”). A can’t-miss tune on the record is “America,” a plainspoken, heart-wrenching lament of a fearsome, unforgiving country. Crockett cut *$10 Cowboy* live to tape at Austin’s Arlyn Studios with his longtime band and a string of ringers, with Billy Horton co-producing.

“I live in a weird world,” Allie X declares at the start of her third album, but really, it’s a line she could’ve sung at any point in her career to date. Though her penchant for electropop earworms has put her in the writers’ room for major artists like BTS and Troye Sivan, the chameleonic LA-based singer/producer has always a harbored the soul of a misfit, an outsider identity cultivated by a lifetime battle with an autoimmune illness and her formative years in Toronto’s late-2000s indie-rock scene. Allie’s semi-autobiographical 2020 album, *Cape God*, was a testament to her alt/pop-crossover savvy, pulling in guest features from Sivan and Mitski and contributions from songwriting pros like Simon Wilcox and JP Saxe. But *Girl With No Face* is all Allie: During the pandemic, Allie was forced to go the DIY route behind the boards—a steep learning curve that accounts for the album’s nearly four-year gestation. But within those technical limitations, she found the freedom to be her truest self—*Girl With No Face* is an in-your-face hit of futurist pop informed by the icy synthscapes of Kraftwerk and post-goth textures of New Order as much as the empowering dance-tent anthems of Madonna and Lady Gaga. “This is probably the most cohesive thing that I\'ve done,” Allie tells Apple Music. “It just happened naturally, because it was only me, and it was only my taste. I definitely was intentional about this sound—it sort of became an antidote to a lot of the commercial pop world that I literally live inside of in Los Angeles. So this is where I\'ve been musically, just loving that UK post-punk spirit of the early ’80s a few years now. I just can\'t get enough of it.” Here, Allie X peels back the layers on *Girl With No Face*, track by track. **“Weird World”** “This was written at the beginning of the pandemic, when there was this uncertainty and dystopian feeling that I think everybody had. But I was also coming to terms with the reality of my career. The *Cape God* period had been so busy and then it all just came to a halt very quickly, so I was able to look under the hood of the car and realize everything was very tangled and twisted and not sustainable. So \'Weird World\' sort of coincided with this decision I made to make a lot of changes and transitions both creatively and within my business. The \'weird world\' is this idea of seeing things as they actually are, and how that can actually be an empowering moment, even though it\'s a sad moment.” **“Girl With No Face”** “I\'ve been trying to figure out who this song is about. It just flowed sort of through me when I co-wrote it with my partner, George Pimentel. I got a sense that she was like this sort of vengeful figure who\'s maybe kind of witty. But now I think of \'the girl with no face\' as this presence that emerged as I was alone in a room for years writing this record. She’s like this layer of myself, or this ghost or this voice in the room with me that could be heard but not seen, and she gave me the strength and the aggression that I needed to get through this project. She’s my invisible muse—my cunty muse!” **“Off With Her Tits”** “It\'s hard for me to get too in detail on this one, because I just like this song to speak for itself. The best thing I can say about the song is that it’s a ridiculous satirization of torturous thoughts, where I felt like I could take some power back by just making fun of them.” **“John and Jonathan”** “I was at a fan meet-and-greet in New York in 2018, and two fans came up and were like, \'Hi, I\'m John, and this is my boyfriend, Jonathan. We love your music!\' And I was like, ‘Wait—your names are John and Jonathan? Okay, I gotta write a song called “John and Jonathan”!’ I was on a walk in \[the Toronto suburb of\] Oakville near my parents’ house with my boyfriend, and I remember being on a pier and it just came to me: \'John and Jonathan/Are on the town.\' I got so excited and went back home and just started recording right away. I\'ve written so many of my most successful songs in Oakville at my parents\' dining room table.” **“Galina”** “I have really bad eczema in my inner elbows, and I found this Russian lady named Galina at this naturopathic clinic in Toronto. For years, she made me this cream in her kitchen that worked better than steroids. She would always say, \'It cost me more to make this than I\'m charging you. I get this man in the Swiss Alps to gather these herbs and I make you this cream.\' She was pretty old, so I always worried: \'What happens when Galina retires? It\'s not like this is some patented product.\' So sure enough, in the summer of 2022, I returned to the clinic, and I was like, \'Could I place an order for the cream from Galina?\' And the lady was like, \'Oh, Galina has retired.\' And I was like, ‘What!?! Did she tell anyone the recipe?\' And she was like, \'No, she won\'t tell. There\'s nothing we can do—Galina has lost her memory.\' So the song is about somebody that you\'ve come to rely on who just coldly leaves your life without something that you need.” **“Hardware Software”** “This was not something I thought about intentionally, I just sort of improvised it. And I imagine those words came out because I had been spending so much time in front of a computer. I just remember doing that silly rap and cracking myself up, by myself.” **“Black Eye”** “I\'ve never dealt with physical domestic abuse; my abuse comes more from just the way that I treat myself and my own body. I always feel like I\'m almost willing to throw myself out of a building for the sake of art or for the sake of my career. That\'s what this song is about: my life experience of having a body that is quite fragile. It\'s not supposed to do a lot of the stuff that I make it do. There\'s all this stress and all these physical challenges that I subjected myself to over and over. So \'Black Eye\' is about how it almost starts to feel natural doing that. And it starts to feel like a high—and that\'s when it gets really scary, when these things that are definitely bad for you start to feel good in a way. But there\'s also wit in those lyrics and in the idea of, like, ‘Yeah, bring it on.’” **“You Slept on Me”** “This song was inspired by a tweet that I\'ve seen over and over throughout my career: ‘Y’all are sleeping on Allie X.’ So I thought I\'d just have a bit of fun with that.” **“Saddest Smile”** “I think I\'m commenting on my tendency to be melancholic, and the idea that if there isn\'t some pain behind a smile, I don\'t believe it. Like, I don\'t believe it in myself, and I don\'t believe it in others. Unfortunately, I believe in the struggle—that\'s so deeply ingrained in me. I have this core belief that things aren\'t worth it unless there was some painful journey to get there. It\'s a belief that I\'d like to get rid of—I\'ve discussed it in therapy. It\'s very strong in me.” **“Staying Power”** “I wrote this after having a really rough year, health-wise. \'Staying Power\' is an acknowledgment of my superpower as I see it, which is a really high pain tolerance. It\'s very direct and very sarcastic. This feels like me having a conversation with someone that I\'m really close and comfortable with.” **“Truly Dreams”** “This was a co-write with my partner, and it has a funk in there that wouldn\'t have been there if I had written it myself. So because of the bounciness of the song, I just went to this more optimistic disco kind of place. I always had drag queens in mind when I wrote this. I really relate to drag queens, and this idea that we can put on our look and get out there and live our fantasy. Like ‘Staying Power,’ it\'s a perseverance song, but in a more fantastical way.”

Megan Moroney chose the songs for her second full-length album because they resonated with her deeply, not because of outside opinions or perceived hit potential. “This is my life, and no one wants me to make a better second album than me, and I’m going to put out whatever songs I like,” she tells Apple Music. “I’m the one that has to perform these songs. I’m proud of them. And if it’s not your cup of tea, then good thing there’s a million artists out there.” That said, *Am I Okay?* shows no signs of a sophomore slump. Like its predecessor, the 2023 breakout *Lucky*, the collection pulls together feisty kiss-offs and aching ballads—the latter a product of Moroney’s winking, self-professed “emo cowgirl” persona. Highlights on the album include the sweet and optimistic title track, on which Moroney falls for “a 6\'2\" dream,” and the swaggering rock anthem “Indifferent.” More serious moments show a weightier side to Moroney’s songwriting, like the heartbreaking, grief-stricken “Heaven by Noon” and the vulnerable closer “Hell of a Show.” Below, Moroney shares insight into several key tracks. **“Am I Okay?”** “People are probably going to think it’s going to be a heart-wrenching song, but it’s just not. It’s like you’re actually happy for once and you’re asking yourself, ‘Oh my God. Am I OK?’ That’s how I felt at one time. I think that when I had hope in a relationship with this guy, it lasted for a month or two until he showed his true colors. But we live and we learn. We got a good song out of it, and then we moved on.” **“No Caller ID”** “I was playing it at the *Lucky* shows. I was kind of giving them that treat, like an unreleased song \[where\] the only place you could hear it was at the live shows. But then, of course, it got posted on TikTok, and several TikToks of that song blew up. So, I thought that people cared about the song, but I didn’t know it was going to take off the way it did, obviously.” **“Indifferent”** “A song like ‘Indifferent,’ it was just kind of what I was going through at the time. But I think in the studio…I’m like, ‘OK, because this song turned into what it is, we need to make this rock. We need to make it punch really hard, because this is going to be crazy at live shows.’ So, it’s kind of like after the song was written, just making sure in the studio it was executed the way that we wanted it to be.” **“Miss Universe”** “‘Miss Universe’ is basically just a story about when you want your ex to downgrade and then they don’t, and you’re like, ‘Oh.’ So, that’s kind of just that feeling. I’m like, ‘How did you pull her?’ So, yeah, that is just kind of a story about how you want them to downgrade and then they don’t. They very much upgrade.” **“Heaven by Noon”** I had a title, ‘Heaven by Noon,’ and I brought it to Jessie Jo Dillon and Matt Jenkins. We wrote ‘Girl in the Mirror’ together, which is also a heart-wrenching song. So, I knew if we were going to write a heart-wrencher that I needed to have those two help me out with it. And we kind of used our own experiences in our own lives to write this song, but it was just the idea of when you lose someone, you don’t know it’s going to be the last time. A lot of people don’t know this, but my uncle died on 9/11, so I thought about my aunt when I was writing that song because the last thing they talked about was an oil change. And that’s probably not what she would’ve wanted to say to him if she knew it was going to be the last time.” **“Hell of a Show”** “It was a situation that I was in for a while, and it was—I knew it was toxic. I kept hoping that it would get better, but it got to a point where I wrote it as a poem in the back of my bus right after a show, and then I picked up my guitar because my guitar was still onstage or whatever, so I didn’t have it. But then I picked up a guitar and put a melody to it after. It was just one of those situations where I’m like, ‘I have a sold-out tour. It’s my debut album, sold out. People are showing up at 10 am. They’ve got shirts on. It’s like everything I’ve ever wanted, and I am crying before I go onstage because of an asshole.’ And it’s like, ‘You are ruining good moments for me.’”

An “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” mentality works well for some artists, but Koe Wetzel likes to take things apart. On his follow-up to 2022’s *Hell Paso*, the cult-favorite singer-songwriter finds fresh sounds with a new collaborator, tapping Gabe Simon (Noah Kahan, Zach Bryan) to produce a genre-bending album that’s also his most fun and freewheeling. “There’s different layers to who I am as a musician, as an artist, and I wanted people to see that from this record,” Wetzel says. “So, if they can come away from listening to the entire record, not just picking a couple songs apart and having their idea of it, \[but\] listening to the whole record and be like, ‘OK, now we get it a little bit more. Maybe he is a decent artist, a decent musician.’” “Decent” is an understatement, as Wetzel’s deep, rich voice and refreshingly cliché-averse songwriting make for some of the more interesting tunes coming out of the country genre. Highlights on *9 Lives* include the title track, with its stomping beat and an irresistible chorus hook, as well as “Leigh,” a clever, humorous tip of the hat to a popular variation on women’s names. Up-and-comer Jessie Murph lends her swagger to “High Road.” Wetzel includes two covers on the album, both from late artists: the hip-hop wunderkind XXXTENTACION’s “Depression & Obsession,” and beloved country singer-songwriter Keith Gattis’ “Reconsider.” Below, Wetzel breaks down several key tracks. **“Leigh”** “We had a list of names, probably 30 names, and it was like, ‘This would be really cool to write this song.’ And I think we started off as a joke, and then, once we got kind of into it, we were like, ‘This kind of slaps.’ I was like, ‘People are going to take this the wrong way. These girls are going to take all this stuff the wrong way.’ It was a fun song for us to make. And yeah, it’s kind of a diverse song. It kind of has its ups and downs, but it’s a fun song.” **“High Road” (feat. Jessie Murph)** “We went back on a past relationship that I had had a while back. And we just deep-dove into every detail of what would happen whenever we’d fight. And I would go back on past experiences of a certain fight or how I would react to it. Sometimes, I would be there. I’d be like, ‘Hey, if we’re going to do it, we’re going to lay it out there. Let’s do it.’ And then other times, I’d be like, ‘You know what? I’m going to let you chill out, and then I’m out of here.’ So, I don’t know. We just went around and around and nailed out all the details. And then this was another song that pretty much wrote itself pretty quick.” **“Reconsider”** I hope that I did the song justice, but rest in peace to Keith \[Gattis\] and to Charlie \[Robison\]. I’m a little upset that I never got to see \[Gattis\] while he was around. The influence that he had on so many artists in Texas and in Nashville and just country music in general, it’s crazy and it’s beautiful. I sent the song to Wade Bowen, and \[Gattis\] and Wade were really good friends. He left me a voicemail, and he was like, ‘Dude, I’m happy and I’m sad and I’m crying.’ He was like, ‘Dude, the song, it’s phenomenal. You killed it.’ Hopefully I did the song justice, but I just wanted to throw a little ode to Keith Gattis and Charlie for the record.” **“Last Outlaw Alive”** “\[An\] outlaw, for me, is people who blaze their own trail and \[are\] not going by the norm, not confined into what people think they should be or what music thinks artists should be, just doing your own thing and not giving a shit what anybody thinks about it. So, if we’re going to use it like that, then there’s a shit ton of outlaws in this genre, and just music in general. But yeah, there’s a lot of them around. I think it’s only, with the way social media and everything’s going right now, I think we’re in for a lot more of them to pop up.”

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

It can be dangerous, Nick Cave says, to look back on one’s body of work and seek meaning in the music you’ve made. “Most records, I couldn\'t really tell you by listening what was going on in my life at the time,” he tells Apple Music. “But the last three, they\'re very clear impressions of what life has actually been like. I was in a very strange place.” In the years following the 2015 death of his son Arthur, Cave’s work—in song; in the warm counsel of his newsletter, The Red Hand Files; in the extended conversation-turned-book he wrote with journalist Seán O’Hagan, *Faith, Hope and Carnage*—has been marked by grief, meeting unimaginable loss with more imagination still. It’s made for some of the most remarkable and moving music of his nearly 50-year career, perhaps most notably the feverish minimalism of 2019’s *Ghosteen*, which he intended to act as a kind of communique to his dead son, wherever he might be. Though Cave would lose another son, Jethro, in 2022, *Wild God* finds the 66-year-old singer-songwriter someplace new, marveling at the beauty all around him, reuniting with The Bad Seeds, who—with the exception of multi-instrumentalist songwriting foil Warren Ellis—had slowly receded from view. Once a symbol of post-punk antipathy, he is now open to the world like never before. “Maybe there is a feeling like things don\'t matter in the same way as perhaps they did before,” he says. “These terrible things happened, the world has done its worst. I feel released in some way from those sorts of feelings. *Wild God* is much more playful, joyous, vibrant. Because life is good. Life is better.” It’s an album that feels like an embrace. That much you can hear in the first seconds of “Song of the Lake,” a swirl of ascendant synths and thick, chewy bass (compliments of Radiohead’s Colin Greenwood) upon which Cave tells a tale of brokenness that never quite resolves, as though to fully heal or be put back together again has never really been the point of all this, of being human. The mood is largely improvisational and loose, Cave leaning into moments of catharsis like a man who’d been waiting for them. He offers levity (the colossal, delirious title track) and light (“Frogs,” “Final Rescue Attempt”). On “O Wow O Wow (How Wonderful She Is),” a tribute to the late Anita Lane, his former creative and romantic partner, he conjures a sense of play that would have seemed impossible a few years ago. “I think that it\'s just an immense enjoyment in playing,” he says of the band\'s influence on the album. “I think the songs just have these delirious, ecstatic surges of energy, which was a feeling in the studio when we recorded it. We\'re not taking it too seriously in a way, although it\'s a serious record. We were having a good time. I was having a really good time.” There is no shortage of heartbreak or darkness to be found here. But “Joy,” the album’s finest moment (and original namesake), is a monument to optimism, a radical thought. For six minutes, he sounds suspended in twilight, pulling words out of thin air, synths fluttering and humming and flickering around him, peals of piano and French horn coming and going like comets. “We’ve all had too much sorrow, now is the time for joy,” he sings, quoting a ghost who’s come to his bedside, a “flaming boy” in sneakers. “Joy doesn\'t necessarily mean happiness,” Cave says upon reflection. “Joy in a way is a form of suffering, in the sense that it understands the notion of suffering, and it\'s these momentary ecstatic leaps we are capable of that help us rise out of that suffering for a moment of time. It is sort of an explosion of positive feeling, and I think the record\'s full of that, full of these moments. In fact, the record itself is that.” While that may sound like a complete departure from its most recent predecessors, *Wild God* shares a similar intention, an urge to communicate with his late children, from this world to theirs. That may never fade. “If there\'s one impulse I have, it’s that I would like my kids who are no longer with us to know that we are okay, that \[wife\] Susie and I are okay,” Cave says. “I think that\'s why when I listened to the record back, I just listened to it with a great big smile on my face. Because it\'s just full of life and it\'s full of reasons to be happy. I think this record can definitely improve the condition of my children. All of the things that I create these days are an attempt to do that.” Read on as Cave takes us inside a few highlights from the album: **“Wild God”** “I was actually going to call the record *Joy*, but chose *Wild God* in the end because I thought the word ‘joy’ may be misunderstood in a way. ‘Wild God’ is just two pieces of music chopped together—an edit. That song didn\'t really work quite right. So we thought, ‘Well, let\'s get someone else to mix it.’ And me and Warren thought about that for a while. I personally really loved the sound of \[producer Dave Fridmann’s work with\] MGMT, and The Flaming Lips, stuff—it had this immediacy about it that I really liked. So we went to Buffalo with the recordings and Dave did a song each day, disappeared into the control room and mixed it without inviting us in. It was the strangest thing. And then he emerges from the studio and says, ‘Come in and tell me what you think.’ When we came in it sounded so different. We were shocked. And then after we played it again, we heard that he traded in all the intricacies and stateliness of The Bad Seeds for just pure unambiguous emotion.” **“Frogs”** “Improvising and ad-libbing is still very much the way we go about making music. ‘Frogs’ is essentially a song that I had some words to, but I just walked in and started singing over the top of this piece of music that we\'d constructed without any real understanding of the song itself. There\'s no formal construction—it just keeps going, very randomly. There\'s a sort of freedom and mystery to that stuff that I find really compelling. I sang it as a guide, but listening to it back was like, ‘Wow, I don\'t know how to go and repeat that in any way, but it feels like it\'s talking about something way beyond what the song initially had to offer.’” **“Joy”** “‘Joy’ is a wholly improvised one-take without me having any real understanding of what Warren is doing musically. It’s written in that same questing way of first takes. I\'m just singing stuff over a kind of chord pattern that he\'s got. I sort of intuit it in some way that it’s a blues form to it, so I’m attempting to sing a blues vocal over the top, rhyming in a blues tradition.” **“Final Rescue Attempt”** “That was a song that we weren\'t putting on the record. It was a late addition, just hanging around. And I think Dave Fridmann actually said, ‘Look, I\'ve mixed this song. It doesn\'t seem to be on the record. What the fuck?’ It feels a little different in a way to me. But it\'s a very beautiful song, very beautiful. And I guess it was just so simple in its way, or at least the first verse literally describes the situation that I think is actually in the book, *Faith, Hope and Carnage*, where Susie decided to come back to me after eight months or so, and rode back to my house where I was living, on a bicycle. It’s a depiction of that scene, so maybe I shied away from it for that reason. I don\'t know. But I\'m really glad.” **“O Wow O Wow (How Wonderful She Is)”** “That song is an attempt to encapsulate what Anita Lane was like, and we all loved her very much and were all shocked to the core by her death. In her early days when we were together, she was this bright, shiny, happy, laughing, flaming thing, and we were the dark, drug-addicted men that circled around her. And I wanted to just write a song that had that. She was a laughing creature, and I wanted to work out a way of expressing that. It\'s such a beautifully innocent song in a way.”

Having previously partnered with some of hip-hop’s most iconic producers, not the least of whom being J Dilla, Common built a career on securing superb beats to suit his agile rhymes. While many rappers of his generation hopped from trend to trend, repeat and reliable collaboration proved core to his discography, with several of the same studio figures from his early albums now fixtures in his circle decades later. It’s the native Chicagoan’s characteristic consistency, perhaps, that makes *The Auditorium, Vol. 1* such a momentous album event. A hip-hop artist indisputably worthy of the word “legend,” Pete Rock comes to this joint effort with the rare distinction of both defining and embodying Golden Era greatness. Though relatively selective about who he deems dope enough to form a duo with since the C.L. Smooth days, the Bronx-born producer generated goodwill and critical respect for his 2010s efforts opposite his city’s Skyzoo and Smoke DZA. As such, he makes a formidable complement for Common, evident from the jump on the exquisite intro “Dreamin’.” His timeless instrumentals conjure certain nostalgic tendencies from the MC, his verses on “We’re on Our Way” and “This Man” laden with old-school references and lyrical memorabilia. From the jazzy swing of “Everything’s So Grand” to the enlightened gospel groove of “A GOD (There Is),” the pair deliver on the promise of their premise, delivering theatrical thrills befitting their skills. And not that an album of this caliber requires special rapper guests, but Posdnuos of De La Soul is a naturally welcome addition to “When the Sun Shines Again.” Furthermore, Rock lays down some refreshing bars of his own on “All Kind of Ideas,” thus providing Common with a worthy foil on the mic as well as off and increasing anticipation for a presumed second volume.

In the video for Sleater-Kinney’s “Untidy Creature,” freediver Amber Bourke spends two and a half minutes on her back, eyes closed, holding her breath under the water of a full bathtub. That peaceful-seeming setup, juxtaposed with Bourke\'s re-oxygenating gasps, is an apt metaphor for the tension, anxiety, vulnerability, and catharsis that characterize the Portland, Oregon, band’s 11th LP (and second as a duo following the departure of longtime drummer Janet Weiss), *Little Rope*. “The album is playing with ideas and feelings and sentiments that could be either or both,” guitarist/vocalist Carrie Brownstein, one half of the duo alongside vocalist/guitarist Corin Tucker, tells Apple Music. “So a little rope could signify the darkest moment for someone, a desire to end it all, but it could also conversely be the thing that someone throws to you to rescue you, to pull you from the muck and the mud.” Over the last couple of years, Sleater-Kinney has experienced a lot more than just muck and mud. In late 2022, just as the band had started writing the album, Brownstein\'s mother and stepfather died in a car accident while traveling overseas. “There was a sense of fragility and also disorientation,” Brownstein says of that time. “So the act of playing guitar, I understood that ritual. I knew what to do with my hands. So Corin brought me songs instead of baking cakes or bringing me food. Part of it was just tending to this world that we have spent nearly three decades building—and songs were something that were still very much alive. And because the stakes felt higher, I just wanted every song to be perfect.” Here Brownstein and Tucker explain how they made that happen. **“Hell”** Corin Tucker: “This song really came about organically when I was in a record store listening to music in LA. It was one of those moments where the lyrics just started coming to me and the emotion of feeling like I was having this revelation about what we normalize in our society, the way that we normalize violence, the way that we have accommodated it. It\'s supposed to be a moment of shock of waking up to that and realizing it in that moment.” **“Needlessly Wild”** Carrie Brownstein: “I\'ve always been a scrappy, irascible person, and I think this song reckons with outsize emotions that no longer feel sanctioned and that feeling of continual clumsiness, or confusion, or almost being feral. I kept wanting to change the lyrics from the demo version, which said \'needlessly wild\' over and over again. But Corin and John Congleton, our producer, liked it better when it was more lyrically austere. And I finally realized that the repetition was the song—that the whole point was that there wasn\'t an escape route, and that we\'re not going to find a different end to this repetitive line, just like we can\'t write alternative endings for things that we don\'t want or like the outcomes to.” **“Say It Like You Mean It”** CT: “This song is about when you realize that your time with the people you care about the most, it will come to an end, and you may not know exactly when that\'s going to be or how it\'s going to take shape, but you definitely will be saying goodbye. And it\'s about the wide range of emotions that come with that: acceptance, the tender feelings, and also a feeling of frustration and even anger in the imperfection of the intimacy that we have together during the time that we have.” **“Hunt You Down”** CB: “I was listening to a podcast that featured an interview with a poet, an undertaker named Thomas Lynch. And he was talking about a meeting he had with a father as they were planning the burial of this man\'s child, and the father said to Thomas Lynch, \'The thing you fear the most will hunt you down.\' It was such a striking and devastating line, and it had such an axiomatic quality to it. It is just the truth. This sounds very depressing, but the music of the song—the rhythm, the vocal melody—it\'s catchy. The more you sing something—even if there\'s pain or sadness in the lyrics—when you put that over something that actually buoys you, it can change the meaning of what that is until there\'s freedom in letting go of that great fear.” **“Small Finds”** CT: “When we started playing this song, it was just kind of like a jam on guitar. It’s a weird song. It definitely comes from our love of discordant guitar—bands like Television and Sonic Youth—and music that has some real grit to it. And then the fun of it is making a puzzle that works as a song. With the lyrics and the vocals, I wanted to do something that gave it a bit of swing into a catchier song, so that it had a story to it that wasn\'t just bits and pieces. So the character in it is a dog, and it\'s about taking away all of that cerebral angst that we live with every day, and we worry about things and getting into our bodies and thinking about, ‘Well, what is meaningful in the everyday life? What is some joy I can seek out?’” **“Don\'t Feel Right”** CB: “This is that duality between dark and light. To me, when I was writing it, we needed a fast song. I like songs that feel like songs you drive around to. It\'s such a classic way of listening to music. And I wanted a song that you could sit inside and go on a journey with, musically. It has that repeating riff and this just constant drive to it. When we sing the chorus, it really conjures Tom Petty to me, who I think is very good at taking heartbreak and heartache and turning it into something melodious.” **“Six Mistakes”** CT: “I think it was something that we were messing around with sonically to have it be like a New Wave or Devo song. But as we got into the studio with the rest of the songs and the emotion and the rawness of everything, it took it to this very heightened level, where it\'s a song about feeling outside of being loved, and outside of being seen. So it\'s almost a character of a woman who can\'t understand why people can\'t see her. That\'s something that I think comes up on this record a lot: aging and feeling like a woman—your identity really changes over time, and taking back your power with that and playing with it.” **“Crusader”** CB: “There\'s a handful of methodologies with which we work, and one is just Corin and I still sitting in a room together playing guitar, and you can hear that on this song or \'Small Finds,\' just that very fundamental, central Sleater-Kinney quality of intertwining, angular guitar lines. Thematically this song zooms out a little bit, surveys the landscape, grappling with this harsh reality that\'s sometimes unimaginable and that\'s grown dire. And just the idea that someone\'s very existence is a threat to someone else, and the trespasses on bodily autonomy. I think the song imagines that instead of shrinking, you grow to possess something grander and brighter. It\'s a little bit of a hype song in the middle of a broader narrative—of this album that is about resistance and grappling with smallness and self-effacement.” **“Dress Yourself”** CB: “This song speaks to the modern-day predicament of somehow getting out of bed and getting ourselves prepared for the day, despite all of the existential threats. It\'s almost shocking what great pretenders we all are, and the normalcy and steadiness that we can project out into the world. It\'s a rallying cry for those of us who can\'t believe we\'re upright every day.” **“Untidy Creature”** CT: “This one’s meant to be a very personal story about feeling trapped in a relationship, but it\'s also meant to look out as a window on what women are going through in this country in the past couple of years, losing our bodily autonomy, losing our sense of being able to control our own destiny. And so it\'s meant to mirror the personal and the broader world at the same time.”