Halfway 2025
Fragile Wings - Cave Sermon
The names in Fragile Wings suggest softness; tenuous and brittle. And there is desperation in “Hopeless Magic,” “Three-Headed Moth” and, of course, the album title. But the album is anything but fragile. A deft mixture of progressive, death, and post-metal, Australia’s Cave Sermon delivers a rousing manifesto, in the same echelon as Deafheaven or Baroness, able to match impenetrable sludge with roaring beauty. The one man project manages to explore a thrilling swath of metal, from the folk influenced solo on “Moloch” to the southern rock stomp of “Three-Headed Moth.” Most impressively is the hyper clean production that allows every soaring guitar note to ring out in pain and beauty. (Listen to our interview)
It Could / If I - Alex Zethson and Johan Jutterström
Art can be perfect, but the humans behind it are always flawed. Through an intense and intimate recording process that picks up the clack of saxophone valves, and the humming of piano strings, It Could/If I refuses to let anyone forget there are two imperfect humans creating everything. The album reaches into melancholy and uncanniness, meditating on how music is perfect while in the composer’s mind, and instantly blemished when it is played. Alex Zethson’s piano is restrained, almost pained in the way it gently massages out chords and Johan Jutterström’s sax is as much his cooing breath as brass, as close as a synthesis between lungs and instrument as I’ve heard in years. (Listen to our interview)
Cancionera - Natalia Lafourcade
It feels strange to say Natalia Lafourcade casually drops some of the most astonishingly gorgeous music in the world. The effort is obvious; full orchestras swooning along with her, pianos rattling off trembling melodrama, Lafourcade herself casting spells whether she’s crying or cooing. But Cancionera comes only three years after the velvet lined beauty of De Todas Las Flores, and both albums are nearly unmatched in their sheer aesthetic perfection. Like watching PTA’s The Phantom Thread, it feels as though every inch of the production has been gilded with roses and silk.
Planting by the Signs - S.G. Goodman
SG Goodman’s 2022 album Teeth Marks is still a contender for album of the decade. It was a tender yet steely country record that proved Goodman had the sharpest lyrical eye in Kentucky. Planting By the Signs pushes the production levels up, the pop chops to the front, but never loses sight of Goodman’s flawless pen. The choruses on opening 1-2 punch “Satellite” and “Fire Sign” are the finest of her career, and she’s hidden some devastating ballads in the album’s soft tissue. “Michael Told Me” is the best friend-breakup song in recent memory, and fellow troubadour Bonnie “Prince” Billy adds his earned levity to the swooning “Nature’s Child.” Planting By the Signs is less rugged than Teeth Marks but uncovered a not-so-well kept secret: Goodman is a hell of a pop songwriter.
wishful thinking - Duval Timothy
It’s another Duval Timothy album. The man has the blessing and curse that he does exactly one thing that no one else can. And I love the shit out of. The blend of jazz, chamber, and found sounds vibrate between plains and moments of cohesion, but there are selections of sincere tranquility that are unmatched. wishful thinking is a bit thornier than Timothy’s last album, the truly remarkable Meeting with a Judas Tree, but that also allows the sound to stretch its legs in new directions; including the smoky, R&B guitar line on highlight “Big Flex.”
Under Tangled Silence - Djrum
The “under” and the “silence” part of the title don’t seem true to me. But the “tangled”? Oh yes. There might not be a more delightfully tangled, unspooling, twisted, knotty electronic album in recent memory than Under Tangled Silence. Djrum draws from a deep well of ‘90s rave and drum and bass while polishing every note with shimmering beauty. The rippling piano solos wouldn’t be out of place on the aforementioned Duval Timothy album, their spiraling chords reflecting the ecstatic vision of spiritual jazz. Peep centerpiece “Three Foxes Chasing Each Other,” like a wind-up toy with music box notes suddenly shattering into a bass drum beat down, frenetic percussion shivering out from every nook and cranny of the song.
The Universe Will Take Care Of You - Holden & Zimpel
Progressive electronic, focus on the “PROG.” James Holden is one of our finest tinkerers, and teaming up with Polish jazz wizard Waclaw Zimpel was an unexpected pairing. But the duo are bonded by their latent curiosity. These are stellar explorations of loops and synth odesseys, spiraling outward into untouched corners of the cosmos.
1:46:43: The Ventoux Trilogy - Stubbleman
Full disclosure, I haven’t finished this one because it is, let me check my notes here, 1 hour 46 minutes and 43 seconds long. However, if my cursory taste of this project is good enough to place it on this list, please believe me that the time investment is (so far) worth it. This is a minimalist piece in the mode of Steve Reich or Terry Riley, based on simple patters of piano and percussion that build like a snowball tumbling down Mount Everest. Stubbleman’s best quality is knowing precisely where to let a song zig instead of zag. Sudden interjections of synths, handclaps shifting in rhythm, guitars floating to the surface, all dot these songs, making sure the smooth surface is only just hiding the layers of complexity below.
THERES EVIL IN NEW YORK - CHRIST DILLINGER
CHRIST DILLINGER WANTS YOU TO KNOW THAT NEW YORK IS EVIL AND NEW JACK SWING IS BACK.
MEL - Efrén López, Ciro Montanari & Jordi Prats
I’ve got half an essay written on how “World” music has become a strange genre unto itself. A warped mixed of tablas, ouds, sitars and basically anything else that have been used in “classical” music that doesn’t have “western” attached to it. But the melting pot does occasionally produce wonders, including Mel from Spanish trio Efrén López, Ciro Montanari, and Jordi Prats. Their focus on middle eastern and Indian music has evolved over time into an understanding that those musical traditions and Mediterranean tunes have evolved in symbiosis with each other. And hey, where else are you going to hear hurdy gurdy shredding?
Fairyland Codex - Tropical Fuck Storm
I remember my introduction to Tropical Fuck Storm: the sludgy wave of “You Let My Tyres Down.” A modern guitar epic that sounded detuned even when it hit perfect power chords. Nothing they’ve put out since has been below great, but Fairyland Codex feels like contender for their best. Gareth Liddiard’s growls surreal, noir lyrics emulsified with paranoia and bleary eyes. Opener “Irukandji Syndrome” is cosmic horror disguised as galloping garage rock, with Liddiard’s criminal turned hatchet man pulling up a creature halfway between the beast of revelations and a box jellyfish who speaks directly into his brain. “I muddied up the bay of pigs back in 1962/ Yet this time I’m quite sure things won’t end so well for you!” the beast cries before a guitar line washed in hydrochloric acid crashes down.