50-31 | 30-11 | 10-1 | EP/Live/Compilation

30. Ashenspire – Hostile Architecture

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

The overall takeaway from multiple 2020 releases was this overbearing sense of isolation. Across the globe, seclusion was imposed to alleviate a growing pandemic, and its sudden necessity caused a mass dissolution of social connections and relationships. Perhaps, as a response, 2021’s cycle had a bevy of familiar faces delivering solid, safe records, offering comfort that had previously been dismantled. Toss that all out the window — it is 2022, two years removed from when life shut down and power systems demonstrated their profound weaknesses when addressing it. Ashenspire’s purpose on Hostile Architecture is to survey the damage; their scathing social critique takes aim at calculated oppression, malignant government bodies, and the widening divide between the haves and have-nots, firing with such precision that it’s impossible to not envision burgeoning crowds stocked to the brim with pitchforks and torches aplenty. It came out of left field, but the Scots’ sophomore release was certainly something that the new decade’s omnipresent uncertainty was craving.

Given the subject matter at hand, Hostile Architecture is appropriately claustrophobic, erecting shadowy soundscapes that echo about crumbling cities, ringing in the alleyways and reverberating in shelters as frustration bubbles to a boiling point. The band’s grab-bag of influences and contributing elements that they use to portray this hauntingly real dystopia possesses incredible depth. Dissodeath and black metal forge a mesmerizing foundation, while touches of post-punk imbue proceedings with an unshakable despair. Soaking the album in its noir-esque atmosphere are two members dedicated to saxophone and violin duties, each instrument feeding off the energy of the other, frequently intertwining or harmonizing to contrast the bedlam or accentuate its magnitude. This cooperation defines the majority of the LP’s runtime; the sax and violin are able to weave their way through this decrepit landscape without once seeming out of place. Their home is inside the blackened riffs and cacophonous percussion that rampages about, all while a hypnotic bass dances underneath the mess. 

The ultimate vehicle for the album’s grievances, however, is a vocal exhibition that transforms the material from unsettling to terrifying. Purveying absolute venom, exhaustion, exasperation, tragedy, and cynicism in equal measure, the performance delivered here is extraordinary and quite a bold risk in a genre unaccustomed to this unhinged, hardcore-like style of delivery. If the exposed damage of prior years wasn’t clear enough, the lyrics and the way they are conveyed colors in the emptiness to dispel lingering ambiguity. This level of commentary was perhaps the inevitable trajectory of metal’s unyielding love affair with dissonance overload — its inherently suffocating, unclean, dizzying sound is the ideal mirror for a world falling ever further into distrust and disarray — but to this juncture, no outfit had applied such a menacing, combative flair to their work, pushing the critique in the background to the forefront. In its quietest moments, when the subtle jazz influence creeps into picture or a climax gradually brews, there is still a fearful anticipation — a waiting period of the next diatribe to erupt and cut through the speakers. There is no safety in Hostile Architecture, but you’re there to stay as Hell rains down. –M. Worden / MarsKid

29. Greyhaven – This Bright and Beautiful World

[Official site] // [Spotify]

Empty Black set the metalcore underground on fire in 2018. There was a certain swagger to Greyhaven’s mixture of Every Time I Die’s Southern flair and the engrossing, mosh-worthy grooves of Norma Jean, taking the best of both groups while synthesizing it into something that sounded of their own hand. It’s difficult to thread the needle of playing into metal’s inherent cheese factor while also performing it seriously enough to ground proceedings where grounding is needed — such as the band’s quotable, but frequently tragic or otherwise violent lyricism — but the young quartet managed to make the magic happen. It’s a cliché story as old as time — “Oh, no, can the big boy band who made a big boy album do better?!” — but when considering how intense and memorable Empty Black was, the doubt seemed valid. The Louisville gang were more than up to the task, and on third release This Bright and Beautiful World, they were able to refine their newfound direction into a potent combination of frenzied musicianship, bombastic refrains, and a lingering rock influence. 

Though not as immediate as its predecessor — don’t be fooled by the explosive opener “In a Room Where Everything Dies”, this one takes a moment to settle in — the Kentucky collective’s latest is impressive in its own right. The occasional dives into alternative rock of the early 2000s have been carried over, manifesting into occasional forays into moody, introspective passages or full-on pop-fueled bangers. Nick Spencer’s versatile riffing can match any given approach, whether he’s busting out a simplistic ear-worm or a complex, melodic line that snakes around a song, astonishing with its pure technicality and slight twang dripping off every note. Both avenues thrive within This Bright and Beautiful World‘s varied duration; they can collide into a hectic mixture where discord reigns and sanity hangs on by a thread — say hello to the booming chorus, winding verses and unforgiving breakdowns of “More and More Hands” — or flow gracefully between contrasting points, such as the incendiary beginning of “And It’s Still Too Loud” and its gradual, sorrowful conclusion. These moments demonstrate an amazing consistency regardless of their juxtapositions, which speak volumes to the level of polish the group has applied to their already-successful formula. 

Though it sounds like a well-oiled machine, the inevitable result of Greyhaven’s mish-mash of genre titans is something that is absolutely punishing, gripping, and capable of viciousness despite its clean interior. The x-factor is Brent Mills; there is some beautiful pandemonium being sewn behind him, but the dynamic frontman’s performance in particular is a spectacle to behold, managing to deftly maneuver from piercing screams to emotional clean vocals. Mills can sniff out the intended mood of a song and capture it via abstract prose and impressive vocal control. His ability to command a hook is nearly unrivaled, possessing both the range to bring the house down (“More and More Hands”) and the charisma to mesmerize a crowd (“All Candy”). With outfits like the aforementioned Every Time I Die bowing out, there’s a sudden shortage in carefree metalcore. If nothing else, Greyhaven have proven they’re the ideal choice to fit that void; their lovable Southern swagger and vast armory of enthralling riffs are a wonderful combo, and one that can appeal to those seeking pure entertainment or something with considerable depth. –M. Worden / MarsKid

28. The Dear Hunter – Antimai

[Official site] // [Spotify]

The legendary progressive pop and rock group are finally back with a new extensive and probably elaborate world that we can get lost in for the next 5-10 years. I have been very curious to see how the band would change after they finished the Acts because I knew they would continue to diverge from their more post-hardcore roots. Now that we have the first installment, there seems to be more jazz fusion and new wave, which brings a new slew of influences — the heaviest being Thank You, Scientist. Overall, Antimai is a detailed roadmap of the new world, showing the class system for the made-up world and backed by some bouncy and powerful jazz fusion and progressive elements. It will be interesting to see their new album to see how the story of this world divulges. –ajcollins15

Kicking off a new, ill-defined story with a guided tour through its caste-structured universe, Antimai’s primary goal appears to be establishing a sense of place and order for installments to come, and its political climate may ring a few bells: theocratic brainwashing, wealth inequality, and impaired social mobility all collide to keep its masses oppressed, its most powerful detached and omnipotent, and those in the middle reverent of the hierarchy for fear of backsliding. The parallel to our modern age is eye-rollingly obvious, even if Crescenzo has touched on most of these topics before. Most of Antimai toes that miraculously thin line between straight-faced, business-as-usual alt prog and facetious self-parody; this is the essence of The Dear Hunter, assuredly, but it’s also The Dear Hunter filtered through the Star Wars cantina band, and say what you will about that, but they sound like they’re having a fuckin’ blast hamming it up. –ashcrash9

This is definitely their most bombastic album yet, but the hooks are so good it’s hard not to love. The downside is that a few songs meander a bit too much for my liking, but for the most part, this is another hit for them. –JoyfulPlatypus

27. City of Caterpillar – Mystic Sisters

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Emo’s development is replete with stray one-and-done acts that rapidly formed, crafted a sound that precious few championed, then promptly headed off to the graveyard, never to be heard again until hindsight reappraisal and underground influence rekindled their significance. Considering the genre’s requirements — an artist must be willing to extract their insecurities and string them up like a bloodied wardrobe on a clothesline — it’s a small wonder how multiple young acts screamed their grievances onto tape and then were extinguished, be it by virtue of growing up, finding happiness somewhere, or becoming too exhausted to drain even a drop of lingering trauma. City of Caterpillar’s legacy would be immaculate in their musical sphere regardless of if a comeback wasn’t in the cards, but something compelled them to venture back to the darkness. Even amongst peers, theirs was an ugly darkness, far keener on teasing beauty in order to smash it than reaching a melodic crescendo. Therein was the appeal, however; the group could fashion extraordinary post-rock treks that were submerged in profound despair, only rarely breaching the surface for air. Even a decade later, the band’s home remains buried underneath that mire, and it’s within those haunting soundscapes that Mystic Sisters unveils its tragic exquisiteness. 

The 2022 iteration of City of Caterpillar are still besieged by a mounting sense of hopelessness. They’re still piloted by a nervous energy that manifests in the scratchy guitar riffs and panicked vocals, and they’re still attempting to claw away the darkness and crawl towards an elusive light. More often than not, that is where the band remains; their concern lies primarily in crafting opaque, wistful landscapes that are difficult to grasp, but quietly sink under skin once provided the time to dig in their talons. It’s also what continues to set the collective apart from peers, as a primary strength for them is building an engaging adventure without needing to oversell a payoff — or even feature one to begin with. The bulk of the title track is spent with relatively little motion, instead painstakingly instilling a mood that gradually feeds off the ambiance, eventually seeping into a mournful guitar that softly ushers the tune forward. It’s the same case for closing number “Ascension Theft”; having assailed the audience with corrosive chords and menacing screams, City of Caterpillar promptly recede, leaving behind an echoing melody that loops above gentle strumming and stray choir vocals. There’s no need for anything else as what is trying to be conveyed — unbridled, adolescent-esque emotion — is already contained in the delicate atmosphere. If the despair requires an exclamation point, however, it can be delivered swiftly through intricate riffs and pounding rhythms, such as the aggressive “Decider” or the similarly turbulent “Paranormaladies”, but the same mist of fellow tunes is the prevailing factor.

When discussing the release of the album, guitarist and vocalist Brandon Evans spelled out quite nearly the exact same observation of the group’s trademark atmosphere: “… it’s not really about us. It never has been. What we cared about 20 years ago was innocent, raw emotion, and that’s what we care about now.” It’s reflected by a sophomore album that carefully chooses when to arm the explosives, artfully navigates the crescendos it embarks upon, and focuses intensely on universal sensations that remorseful timbres can conjure. Every note reverberates in the hollow cavern that is Mystic Sisters, bouncing off the walls of a gorgeously reserved production that lets arrangements breathe and explore the expanse before them, simultaneously offering ample space to the versatile percussion kit and a thunderous bass that can set a scene and demolish it on a whim. Theirs is an ugly darkness, but one whose mesmerizing compositions inevitably transform into something that is somewhat soothing in its own unique manner. The bleakness and the triumphs of Mystic Sisters are not of a band, but of listeners — of whoever lends an ear, dissolves into the noise, and reemerges as if cleansed by the shadows. As a comeback, it’s uncannily up-to-par to legendary prior material. By itself, it is an inspiring and ultimately beautiful walk through unanimously understood pains. –M. Worden / MarsKid

26. Allegaeon – Damnum

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Damnum was an album that caught me completely off guard, as my overall exposure to Allegaeon was very limited at the time. My first time hearing them was when their previous album, Apoptosis, came out in 2019. While it wasn’t a bad record (quite the contrary), it never really found its way into my headspace of albums I’ll remember for years. Therefore, I more or less dismissed Allegaeon as a group that I’d play a few times then set aside for an indefinite amount of time. Damnum changed my thinking completely. Right from the opener “Bastards of the Earth”, Allegaeon immediately put their technical foot forward and blew everything that they had released prior out of the water. The instrumentation, Riley McShane’s vocal work, the production and the songwriting in general is elevated to the next level — not just in Allegaeon’s case, but for death metal as a whole.

However, Riley McShane’s sudden and unexpected departure later in the year makes for a saddening circumstance. At a moment where it seems like Allegaeon were about to reach the top of the world, they’re suddenly hit with a massive obstacle. Regardless, Allegaeon and their fans should be more than proud of Damnum‘s incredible result, and with original vocalist Ezra Haynes seemingly back into the fray, we can all hope that Allegaeon will continue to ride this wave of excellence. –Toondude

25. The Wonder Years – The Hum Goes On Forever

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

This is rivaling The Greatest Generation for their best for me. It does feel a bit disjointed which is unfortunate, but “Cardinals II” and “Laura & the Beehive” are special. This just gets better with each listen. –TotallyTotodile

This is a big return to form after Sister Cities, which I maintain is really the only bad thing they’ve done since they started taking the band seriously. I don’t think this is as good as No Closer to Heaven (which is my favorite of theirs), and probably is too disjointed to stand toe-to-toe with Suburbia and The Greatest Generation as well. Some of the songs do feel as if they are on autopilot a bit, but they are still executed well. The singles outside of “Summer Clothes” rule, “Cardinals II” lives up to its namesake, and the band finally remembered how to end a record on an epic note again. I absolutely adore the closer. If this ends up being their last, it’s been a helluva run. I don’t think there’s been a more trailblazing band in pop-punk during their run and I would consider every album outside of Sister Cities necessary listening for anyone with even a passing interest in the genre. –Odal

Despite being Campbell’s worst lyrical outing, this is a huge improvement over the genuinely bad and atrociously mixed Sister Cities. The band have rediscovered their sense of fun and written a solid batch of well-structured songs (those signature TWY bridges are back!) with very few true misses. Highlights include the more anthemic singles, like “Oldest Daughter” and “Old Friends Like Lost Teeth”. The closer is another win, kicking off with one of the band’s more successful attempts at a “softer” sound before launching into its explosive chorus. All told, it seems like the band has reclaimed the modern pop punk throne, for whatever that’s worth. Soupy’s vocals still have that annoying whimpering squeak he’s taken a liking to lately, and the production isn’t exceptional like during the band’s glory days, but c’est la vie. –grandfather

24. Static Dress – Rouge Carpet Disaster

[Official site] // [Spotify]

Rouge Carpet Disaster functions most effectively as a vehicle for nostalgia, but its stronger moments indicate that Static Dress are not only plugged into the best trends of the modern post-hardcore sound, but have mastered them as well. Everything about them — from their anonymous mask-wearing guitarist to their mythos-building promotional material — hearkens back to a particularly idyllic era of the mid-2000s when the social media event horizon had not quite yet been reached and the music scenes of MySpace thrived, all while Tom Anderson stood idly by giving them his unmistakable thumbs-up. Static Dress don’t just present as this type of band, they also play like one, hopping energetically from the Saturday Night Wrist worship of “push rope” to the more modern Will Putney-esque “courtney, just relax” without breaking a sweat. Two post-hardcore worlds collide within the runtime of Rouge Carpet Disaster, and the resulting blast is one that listeners won’t soon forget. –YoYoMancuso

23. Gatherers – ( mutilator. )

[Official site] // [Spotify]

Don’t let the album title fool you. While “ ( mutilator. ) ” feels like a name that tries too hard to impress, Gatherers’ fourth full-length is one that excels in the emo post-hardcore sound. Opener “massalette” sets the stage perfectly, featuring a gritty rhythmic riff that explodes into supportive leads and energetic drum grooves layered by shouts, screams, and beautifully performed clean melodies. Other tracks like “gift horse” and “ad nauseam, i drown” lean into this dynamic of heavier-tinged riffs and infectious melodies that soar in the choruses. They give a sense of aggression and angst amidst the powerfully emotional sections that focus more on exploring strong chord progressions and passionate vocals. However, where ” ( mutilator. ) “ succeeds is in the gentler side of songwriting. Slow burners “honey on the marrow” and “last days numbered on a rotary dial” pull influence from early-Brand New styles with subdued vocals and an ebb and flow of energetic moments. Album highlight and closer “twelve omaha solemn certainty” ends ” ( mutilator. ) “ in dramatic fashion with beautifully composed acoustics that give way to an eruption of sound in an epic chorus finale. 2022 was a great year of post-hardcore emo sorta stuff, and Gatherers’ newest is a fantastic addition to that mix. –Tyler W. / tyman128

22. Meshuggah – Immutable

[Official site] // [Spotify]

Don’t act like you’re surprised! Thirty years in the shug and the Shug are still shugging, strong as ever. Rehashing accolades can be a trite exercise, but it bears repeating that this band are one of a handful in modern metal that truly exist in a league of their own. Dissidents and fans alike are quick to point out that Meshuggah’s approach hasn’t varied much during their tenure — but such a critique loses sight of the adventurous tweaks the band have made on each of their releases. While Sput’s base of Meshuggah fanboys tend to display an open-mindedness that would be lost on many a metalhead, there remains a sense that many still view the electronic touches on the band’s music since Catch Thirtythree as an exercise in homogeny rather than diversity. This perspective, while understandable, underscores how challenging such an unconventional approach can be for a scene broadly held together by tradition over experimentation, especially when this experimentation becomes an unrelenting focal point of the sound. Immutable may not have as many standout moments as, say, The Violent Sleep of Reason, but suggesting that the band have somehow lost their spark is a recycled mantra at best — and a lazy criticism at worst. One of the most remarkable things about Immutable is how the band manage to craft an almost ‘chilled out’ take on their style, without losing any of the trademark heaviness. This lends a relaxed confidence to the approach, making the album a refreshing departure from their last few records and simultaneously a brilliant return-to-form and celebration of the three decades they’ve spent refining their sound. Immutable is chock-full of memorable grooves and atmosphere, and stands tall in the Shug discography. If you haven’t checked the album out yet, do so, and if you’ve already turned your nose up at it, this contributor urges you to give it another chance. –normaloctagon

21. Beach House – Once Twice Melody

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Eight albums in, and Beach House have finally won me over. It has always felt like they are photographers endlessly playing with the depth of field, or the composition, or the light. It locked into place this time — the painstaking setup was complete, the timer was engaged, and they simply stepped into frame and the image was as it should be. And on a double album no less. The duo considered all the sage advice to prune, and they almost did. Perhaps the intimate home recording process or the adversity of working through COVID restrictions made them resistant — Scally remarked that they felt they had to fight for this record, and that ache of ownership has imbued them with the stubbornness to discover the space that was required. He also stated the synthesis of his analytical approach and Victoria Legrand’s romantic sense of feeling was perfectly in balance here. Once Twice Melody certainly feels like the Beach House album in which the ‘prettiness’ serves the songs most. On “Pink Funeral” the violent zipline of strings sounds like an indrawn breath of pain. The gently undulating organ tornado of “New Romance” is the sound of succumbing, wide-eyed, to the confusion of infatuation. The acoustic switch up of “Sunset” feels an emulsion of malted light trickling over the rocks and scrub making up an endless vista. Even the simple vocal echo employed in “Only You Know” makes me conscious of my tired eyes.

All through the record are references to light, and the songs often embody a dichotomy, as if they would sound appropriate at a sun-drenched breakfast for two on the balcony or soundtracking a heady dash from the club to the car in neon moon inflected rain. By allowing each layer and element to shine so luxuriously in the mix, the duo’s point of view comes alive in the space between, and it is, in one word, resplendent. Fall backwards, trust, be caught, turn, waltz, maybe cry after the dance. It is ok if it does not work out; you may mess up, but eventually you will be dressing up. –fog

20. Elder (USA-MA) – Innate Passage

[Official site] // [Spotify]

What do I love about Elder? My instant answer is: because I love the flow of their jams.

Flow: A psychological term describing a mental state in which a person performing some activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and enjoyment in the process of the activity (Ellis et al., 2018).

In my opinion, Innate Passage delivers exactly that feel. Their fuzzy psychedelic prog metal style absolutely shines on this record, and the result is an incredibly immersive, soulful and exciting joyride. Everything was given for a good time, and they did not disappoint: it’s very groovy as expected (those bass lines are pure gold), the gritty yet super smooth guitars, the catchiness of Nick DiSalvo’s vocals, the gorgeous new age-ish synths (I sense bits of Yes influences here), and not to mention: a serene and quite uplifting atmosphere this record evokes are among the factors that made this record successful. Therefore, I believe they absolutely deserve all the praise, and I’m not surprised this landed in the top 20. –garas

19. Artificial Brain – Artificial Brain

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Despite the saturation lurking in the — albeit niche — science-fiction-inspired technical death metal scene, Artificial Brain are taking the lion’s share. Their latest self-titled release marks the final installment of a trilogy that began with 2014’s Labyrinth Constellation and continued with 2017’s Infrared Horizon. On these releases, howler Will Smith — you can’t make this up can’t you — created a whole mythology exploring themes of isolation, madness, and the unstoppable force of nature in the face of technological advances — you only have to look at the artwork to see this last point. Sonically, this translates with a wide’n’wild array of brutal riffs tending towards dissonance, with clean riffs buried under the onslaught, only taking over when said onslaught calms down slightly.

While the mix may seem a little unfathomable at first, the nuances show their richness after a few listens: the production is colourful enough for the guitar work to shine through instead of blending into an indistinguishable mass. The inevitable Colin Marston does the production work, and this self-titled album already ranks high in the MCU (Marston Chonky Universe). Artificial Brain sounds like Krallice from 10 years ago, meeting the band’s intergalactic massive aspect with progressive death metal sensibilities. Despite the loss of their frontman — Smith having announced his departure from the band — the guys in Artificial Brain have proven with this final installment that they are indeed one of the best modern death bands. –Erwann S. / dedex

18. Soul Glo – Diaspora Problems

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

“Fuck right wing off the rip / But still liberals are more dangerous”

Yeah, Soul Glo’s music is deeply political, and they understand that the one side hiding under “common sense” and “there is no alternative” is doing more long-term harm than unsubtle conservatives frightened about non-white, non-male, non-straight empowerment (read Mark Fisher y’all). Understanding that is one thing, but yelling it through tight, cynicism-filled hardcore diatribes is another, especially when forays into diversified soundscapes (trap shit, ska shit, metal shit) feel so genuine. Factor in personal themes, such as suicide or addiction, and Diaspora Problems quickly becomes as electrifying as it is grueling; its life-affirming defiance is only matched by its authentic largesse.

What if you don’t care about politics or personal tragedies (you well-suited-for-this-era monster)? Well, Diaspora Problems is ultimately a big fucking flex made with the snarkiest shit-eating grin, and that alone is what warrants its spot as one of the most essential (early) 2020s hardcore releases. –Erwann S. / dedex

17. Cave In – Heavy Pendulum

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

This shit fucking stomps. Cave In return and drop what may be the most consistent record of their career in Heavy Pendulum, which is no mean feat considering the loss of Caleb Scofield in 2018, arguably the band’s principal songwriter. Recruiting Nate Newton from fellow buddies and metalcore legends Converge to take over bass and vocal duties proves to be the band’s new x-factor — Cave In have never been this heavy, vital and focused in their careers, and Nate is a big part of that. His throaty growl puts the vocal OOMPH in “Blood Spiller”, “Nightmare Eyes”, “Amaranthine” and much of the record, perfectly complementing Steve Brodsky’s inimitable croon.

Brodsky and Adam McGrath punish throughout the entire record with disgusting riff after riff, intertwined with the galactic delay leads they are infamous for, bolstered by powerhouse drumming from JR Connors, really only stopping to take a breath a handful of times throughout with a couple of interludes and more reflective, meditative tracks such as the title track and “Reckoning”. If anything can be criticized with the record, it’s that there’s almost too much of a good thing — the interludes are cool but not really necessary, and “Waiting For Love”, while having a great riff, is just kinda there.

Otherwise, there’s a strong argument for Heavy Pendulum being Cave In’s strongest record yet. It does a fantastic job of combining aspects of all those eras into one, with a little bit of Mastodon, Alice in Chains, Failure, and Soundgarden sprinkled on top. Incredible album. And did I mention the production is fucking ridiculous? –StrizzMatik

16. White Ward – False Light

[Bandcamp] // [Spotify]

Save for the gigantic opener “Leviathan”, I wasn’t entirely hooked by White Ward’s third album at first. That said, I predicted a grower here — and in the end, my instinct turned out to be correct. With False Light, the Ukrainian formation continued to widen their artistic expression with their dark jazz-infused post-black style and aimed for perfection. From an analytical perspective, it has a grander scope and simply improves upon their already fantastic prior output: more melodic segments, smoother (or less contrasting) immersion of the jazz elements into the overall picture (plus more brass instruments were integrated), more variety and depth in the vocal performances (False Light features numerous guest vocalists), and a more complex and ‘braver’ songwriting approach. In a departure from their earlier work, White Ward have limited the presence of extreme metal in their sound, with those sections instead being replaced by commendable restraint to augment the album’s atmosphere. Moreover, a somewhat neo-folkish vibe can be detected, adding further unique traits to the album. It’s yet another step forward for the intrepid collective, and certainly one of the best records to check this year. –garas

15. Denzel Curry – Melt My Eyez See Your Future

[Official site] // [Spotify]

After a critically acclaimed debut album Nostalgic 64 in 2014, it was when the ultra-banger “Ultimate” embraced the summer of 2016 that Denzel Curry began to titillate the upper echelon. He then focused on refining his craft (Imperial), mastering the conceptual (TA1300), and delivering a moving yet banging tribute to his family and his Florida rap roots (ZUU) — and all of this overshadows an abundance of collaborations, including the excellent UNLOCKED EP with Kenny Beats. His work has always been a bridge between the old and the new, between the precise cuttings inherited from his influences and the exuberant energy of his contemporaries. It resulted in highly conceptual albums that also worked on a purely anthemic level; now, Denzel Curry is ready to slow down.

Ditching the roaring basslines and dynamic 808s in favour of jazzier lo-fi hip-hop, Melt My Eyez See Your Future is indeed Curry’s most suave album. The Floridian’s other influences are more strongly felt than ever — jazz, R&B, funk, soul, and even a bit of his lifelong punk energy. This broad musical palette helps Curry to balance homage with a desire to move forward musically. The single “Walkin” is the track where this transition between two eras is most apparent: starting with a boom bap instrumental and a slow flow, then transforming halfway through into a banger trap and a more aggressive flow. There are still modern trap traces, but these are now in the minority amidst other influences. But instead of sprinting as usual, Curry adapts his flows through these soft instrumentals. There’s still some of his hyperactive flow, but there’s no “Black Metal Terrorist” track or screamed passage here. Instead, the rapper shows that he refined his technique, knowing when to go for sharp diatribes (“Ain’t No Way”) and when to let himself go for jaunty wanderings (“Mental”).

While the rapper has not shied away from revealing his innermost thoughts in the past, Melt My Eyez is his most introspective and transparent album to date. “John Wayne” is eminently personal for Curry: his brother Treon died from complications after being tasered by police in 2014. In addition, Curry was a classmate of Trayvon Martin, the 17-year-old (fucking hell) African-American man who was shot and killed by George Zimmerman in 2012, prompting protests and marches across the country. “John Wayne” is not Curry’s first foray into these politicised waters: at the height of the Black Lives Matter protests in June 2020, Curry and producer Terrace Martin released the searing “Pig Feet”. Similarly, Curry reveals his fight against the objectification of women — which he says he takes part in — and against all forms of manipulation on “Melt Session #1”. He also explains that his sexual proclivities are probably the result of sexual abuse at a very young age. Yet he does not indulge in self-pity, preferring to take responsibility for his present actions rather than justifying harmful acts with his upbringing — another proof that Curry has evolved as an artist and, most importantly, as a man.

Sure, some might regret the lack of a banger a la “Ultimate” or “Ricky”, but it’s ultimately gratifying to see Curry’s personal growth reflect his artistic maturation. The album ends with “The Ills”, where he states how his introspection drives him to take bold creative steps. It’s a powerful final thesis, illustrating why Denzel Curry felt it was time for him to take a new direction. He remains true to himself but still dares to venture into different spaces — proving once again that he is the most artistically interesting Southern rapper. He constantly tests himself, opens up his possibilities, and manages to raise his ceiling with every album. Nothing is less undoubtable whether Melt My Eyez See Your Future will be his definitive classic. However, Denzel Curry keeps us gasping and excited about each of his releases because we know damn well they will bring something that current rap doesn’t. –Erwann S. / dedex

14. Norma Jean – Deathrattle Sing For Me

[Official site] // [Spotify]

Okay, Deathrattle Sing For Me was possibly one of their more polarizing releases (I’m specifically referring to those Architects comparisons), but the fact remains that Norma Jean are masters at walking the fine line between pushing the envelope of progression and sticking to their foundation. Veering from dizzying to dazzling, from focused to fucking nuts, Deathrattle challenges the listener with its juxtaposition of ambience, electronics, and a tinge of the blues against shape-shifting time signatures, chaotic riffs, and crushing breakdowns. Yes, it can be contradictory; yes, it’s confusing occasionally; yes, it sometimes borders on ridiculous, but this is a Norma Jean album, and if you’re looking for something “normal,” you came to the wrong place. Deathrattle Sing For Me is Norma Jean proudly doing what they do best: their own damned thing, proving once again why they are one of the most reliable names in metalcore. –Manatea

13. Big Thief – Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You

[Official site] // [Spotify]

More than ever, Big Thief are living up to their name, tiptoeing away from the scene of the crime with their bag o’ swag in tow, positively overflowing with gathered detritus. Their output has become so prolific — the two LPs of 2019, Adrienne Lenker and Buck Meek delivering solo material, and now a two-hour opus — that you’re led to wonder how it might be possible without any larceny. Of course, there are folks who balk at the idea of expending such a long time listening to what can essentially be boiled down to a contemporary folk album — myself included. It’s a Big Ask. And there will always be criticisms of filler and the superfluous; not many people will count themselves as adorers of every track on this thing. But man, even if you’re not in love with every single track, with the amount of ideas on display — much like the stolen exhibits of national museums — you kinda just have to take a step back and admire it anyway.

It’s easy to suggest that Dragon is some grand departure, bigger than the sum of its parts and such. But it’s decidedly very much in keeping from what has indebted people to them over the past few years. Opener “Change” is a simple folk lilting, with Lenker’s medicinal voice coating the space between soft snare and guitars gently thumbed. “Change, like the sky, like the leaves, like a butterfly,” she trills, of things that are a given, and necessary, as she mourns a moved-on lover and learns to accept a life without. It’s a very unassuming track, and so when “Time Escaping” struts in with pointed guitar stabs, a pulsing rhythm, and pointed, pulsing, abstract lyrics, you’ve got the first indicator that Big Thief have way more in their arsenal than pretty wildflower folk. You’ll surely have heard by now of the silly-sounding jaw harp’s inclusion on “Spud Infinity”, and you’ll land forcefully on either side of that fence (I, a young watcher of Oakie Doke, am absolutely enthralled by it). Or the trip-hop adjacent A-side closer, “Blurred View”, a true skulker far removed from any Big Thief output prior. “Simulation Swarm” is another popular choice, with a bouncy ball vocal melody and layered guitar bends. There are 20 tracks, and plucking out my favourites feels a little futile, considering the tagline for Dragon ought to be “Something for everyone!” It may well beg that typical music-listener question of “What could possibly be next?” — I imagine nobody, not even Big Thief, really knows. –Ashley Collins / anat

12. Ethel Cain – Preacher’s Daughter

[Official site] // [Spotify]

I remember the first time I heard this. I was closing down my hall for the summer (I’m an RA [Resident Assistant] for reference), and I was told by a friend to give Ethel Cain a shot. I had never heard of her, but the hype surrounding the album after seeing some other comments and reviews on it piqued my interest. As Preacher’s Daughter opened up with the haunting “Family Tree (Intro)”, something happened. Suddenly, cleaning up my hall and closing down was no longer a priority. No, not at all. Something about the album was entrancing. Was it the exceptionally composed music? The captivating storyline? I didn’t know, but I didn’t care — Preacher’s Daughter had my attention.

One of my friends put it best. Ethel Cain’s newest is one of the best albums of the year, but also one of the hardest to listen to. It’s musically captivating and excellently written, but emotionally draining and tiring… in the best way possible. You see, Preacher’s Daughter is more than just a record to casually listen to. It is a story that you invest yourself in, experiencing all the pain and torment with fleeting moments of hope and happiness found in the cracks. I could sit here and write out an entire synopsis for you, giving the very details embedded within the lyrics and the sorrow felt through the vocals and instrumentation, but it’s something you have to just experience yourself. Whether it’s the disturbingly dreamy story of drug-induced abuse in “Gibson Girl” or the remorseful ballad about the death of a loved one in “A House in Nebraska”, Ethel Cain’s performance here is profound.

While I could sit here and highlight individual tracks, picking out my favorites like the haunting and unsettling “Ptolemaea” or the beautifully climatic “Strangers”, I feel like that does no good for you. As fun as it is to find an album that you throw on in the background and passively listen to, this just isn’t that. Preacher’s Daughter feels like a movie that you can’t just pause halfway through. It requires your full attention… but that’s the beauty of it. For 75 minutes, Ethel Cain drags you through the depths of abuse, death, and destruction through the eyes of the character. Lyrically and musically, Preacher’s Daughter is an experience that exudes emotion through its story embedded within the words and instrumentation. I don’t know what more I could say about it; it’s something that you need to hear for yourself. It’s a tough listen, but its craftsmanship is unbelievably rewarding. –Tyler W. / tyman128

11. Alvvays – Blue Rev

[Official site] // [Spotify]

I must say, upon my first couple listens of Blue Rev, I mistook it as a one-off assemblage of aight indie songs that needed their gaze makeup to look cool next to their always-smooth, naturally-beautiful older sister. It turns out I was awfully wrong, as teen romcom movies warned us: the gal with braces and glasses always was beautiful. It’s just that her beauty was subtle. The same can be said about Blue Rev: while the dream-power-pop-gaze tunes were enjoyable, they felt like they were short-lived. Sure, they got everything you’d need: quiet-loud-quiet dynamics for us post-gang bitches, MBV glide guitar, psychy passages led by synths, lush wall of sound, you name it. But what made Blue Rev stick is its propensity to install one specific idea per track that will never leave your brain, whether it’s an irresistible pop hook, an unpredictable vocal shift, or a 10-second subdued yet infectious melody.

I wasn’t wrong in thinking this wasn’t original. I was wrong in thinking this was not done with sheer fucking excellence. –Erwann S. / dedex

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