It has been seven years since Christopher Owens, formerly of mid-00s band Girls, last released music. He returns in blissed-out mode with "I Think About Heaven," quoting the Old Testament as he sings about moving past sadness and no longer fearing his own mortality. He sounds almost cartoonishly upbeat. There is a striking clarity, perhaps due to a small amount of Auto-tune, throughout. But it's not just studio tinkering that makes lines like "I think about heaven and break out into a big grin" stand out. It's impossible to listen to the song without thinking of Owens' Girls bandmate Chet 'JR' White, who passed away in 2020. In that context, the song becomes as familial as it is spiritual, a recontextualization of death as the opportunity to be reunited with a loved one. — David Renshaw

Isik Kural makes music with a gentleness that chooses to reveal instead of hide, to linger in the present rather than channel an echo of another era. Blending tropes of folk, ambient, and environmental music, the Turkish musician (now based in Glasgow) delivers a balm in “Stems of Water,” a new song that glows and undulates like a precious gem at the bottom of a tidepool. It’s music that could soothe you to sleep, but will likely awaken something instead. — Jordan Darville

The closing cut from Uniform’s forthcoming album American Standard is an appropriately terrifying track about emotional terrorism and disease. Over pummeling drums and unrelenting power chords, frontman Mike Berdan details in uncompromising terms the horror his struggle with bulimia nervosa has wrought on his own body and the minds of those close to him. “This band is an industrial-grade junkyard incinerator, and processing this garbage has a purifying effect,” Berdan wrote in a recent essay for The Quietus. “I do it because it makes me feel better. I do it because nothing else makes sense.” On “Permanent Embrace,” this cathartic emotional purge subsumes the physical — at least until the song’s rousing crescendo cuts off abruptly at its peak, nosediving off a cliff into uncertain silence. — Raphael Helfand

On "Scarface" U.K. artist BABii explores a chapter in her family history worthy of the big screen. Her father, a promising ice hockey player, turned his back on the ice and made his way to Britain to pursue a different kind of life. On the song, a sleek and modern take on a grime instrumental complete with bass wobbles and video game effects, BABii imagines a conversation between her father and his own dad. "Did I hurt you?" she asks over and over, distilling generations of tension into a simple yet heartbreaking line. — David Renshaw

Nilsson’s 11th album Un-American Activities draws its bristling strength in opposition to various kinds of uprisings: fascist, genocidal, totalitarian. On “Red Telephone,” she taps into our resurgent nuclear anxiety, an appropriate neurosis given the song’s warm ‘80s synth-pop sound. “Waiting for the big one,” Nilsson sings amid swooning keys and jaunty rock drums, her voice full of relief and resignation: what will be, will be, even if it’s a mushroom cloud. — Jordan Darville

Erika De Casier's Still is one of the year's best albums but, with its icy production and whispered vocals, maybe isn't quite suited to summer listening. Enter producer Nick León, a key part of Miami's bustling underground. "Bikini," a joint production between the pair, is as dreamy as a long day by a shimmering coastline. Lines like "take a chance we'll never lose this" hint at the sense of possibility the warmer months bring, while León's slippery beat keeps things ideally poised between the wistful vibe of a sunset and the clammy air of a packed dance floor. — David Renshaw

"Keep the lights low and the music loud," Sunflower Bean's Nick Kivlen sings with a purr. "Loud enough to drown it out." It's an apt introduction to a darker, more cavernous sound from the NYC band built around a guitar riff ripped straight from the '70s heavy metal playbook. As reintroductions go, "Shake" is a swaggering return with a taste for decadence and an evil glint in its eye. — David Renshaw

One of dream-pop’s most consistently underrated experimentalists, James K creates work that could fit equally well at an ambient show or on a ‘90s new age top 40 playlist. Her new single “Blinkmoth (July Mix)” is a breezy epic, unmistakably pop yet translucent enough to let more challenging dimensions refract into its serene oceans. — Jordan Darville

One of the highlights of underground legend LSDXOXO’s shape-shifting debut is “GHOST,” a sensual southern R&B-style track that oozes sex, sweat, and pop culture references. Between nods towards Lil Uzi Vert and T-Pain’s Auto-Tune, “Ghost” is a playful song about ephemeral intimacy and passionate one-night stands, with Kelela’s misty backing vocals lending the song an extra layer of enigmatic sensuality. — Sandra Song

marked, the new project from visionary South London producer Klein, is full of noisy guitar tracks that resist any impulse to invite the listener in. But mid-album standout “(Breaking News)” at least gestures at accessibility. The only track on the record with a discernible vocal — the titular lyric repeated ad infinitum in a mechanical monotone — it also entertains the notion of a pulse in a way the rest of the record doesn’t, sliding sporadic, nearly danceable drums into the song’s chaotic scrum. The placement of these passages can feel random, but Klein has earned our trust enough to convince us that each of her choices is part of an invisible but brilliant master plan. — Raphael Helfand

In every close-knit creative community, there’s always that person that’s determined to push their way into the spotlight, even if it means fucking over their “friends” and splitting the scene apart. These are called “Scene Ballerinas,” as L.A.-based artist Geneva Jacuzzi sings in her sardonic synth-pop tune. With a serpentine rhythm that mimics the shadowy motions of said snaky individual, it’s a track that captures the essence of these tragicomic clout-chasers, who have nothing better to do than start “stirring up a whirlpool of drama” by “spinning lies [and] twisting stories.” — Sandra Song

Tony Seltzer’s collaborations with Wiki this year have felt like extensions — in principle, if not in sound — of Pinball, Seltzer’s album with MIKE. That project’s beats help emphasize the rapper’s ebullient tendencies, and while Wiki has never shied away from making party music, the new Seltzer singles are unlocking a new energy in him. That’s never been more apparent than on “Flopped on the Flip.” The track moves relentlessly with a berserker bounce, harrowing sustained guitar notes, and piano melodies combining the wistfulness of Satie with the shine of Zaytoven. Wiki commands the proceedings as masterfully as we’ve come to expect from him, effortlessly jumping into the track’s closing beat switch. But what really takes the track to another level is the guest verse from SPRYTK. It’s the N.Y.C. rapper’s first new verse in a minute, and she sounds intent on recapturing her career’s momentum: “Always knew I had a gift, I had to unpack it / I was scared to be myself, surrounded by the average,” she raps. She’s in good company here. — Jordan Darville

West coast rap is experiencing a popular renaissance thanks to Kendrick Lamar’s “Not Like Us,” but it feels incomplete without the presence of Drakeo The Ruler, like the moment is slightly off beat. The late Los Angeles rapper’s groggy, menacing flow at least partially inspired Kendrick’s on his most recent megahit, a full-circle moment that anyone who watched Drakeo become one of his generation’s most exciting hip-hop artists knew had to come eventually. “Scoreboard,” an official release of a beloved leak, is a timely reminder of Drakeo’s greatness. NARCOWAVE’s beat glows like a four-wall aquarium, and Drakeo floats on it, croaking out smudged flexes that sound like some of the ink from the blue faces has rubbed off on them. — Jordan Darville

Soft noise scene leaders Seth Graham and Mari Rubio (more eaze) have resuscitated their joint project, —__–____, for a new album slated to arrive at the end of August, this time adding Galen Tipton (recovery girl) to their lineup. “When god released me,” the closing track from Night of Fire — their first full-length since 2021’s The Heart Pumps Kool-Aid — is a slow-burning nightmare. We open on soft pipe organ chords that echo below a sinister spoken-word poem. About a minute in, the poem subs out for Tipton’s overdubbed black metal screams, twisted and intertwined into a mangled tape of a staticky horror film. Later, Rubio’s voice enters the dream, her dulcet, digitized tones gently subduing the movie monster as she takes flight on the wings of gorgeous string swells. Eventually, she too disappears, and the track melts away with whispered words from featured guest Lucy Liyou, fading to black as the dreamer slowly stirs awake. — Raphael Helfand

Lost, alone, and seeking comfort in the arms of others, Remy Jean a.k.a. Sister Gemini wrote "One Room Apartment" in a state of unmoored isolation. "I'm not sure where to begin, with all the trouble I'm in" she sings, pulling you in tight. The fuzzy guitars she bathes her words in land somewhere between grunge self-loathing and a glam rock stomp, a contrast befitting of an upbeat song about a real low point. You can almost feel the walls closing in as the song gets tighter, with Jean ricocheting between feelings of lust and rage while the toy piano sitting beneath these big feelings lend the whole thing a playful air. — David Renshaw

The new collaborative single from CCL (the deeply curious artist behind A Night in the Skull Discotheque, one of the year’s best DJ mixes so far) and Ciel (an influential Toronto-based producer and DJ) is nearly six minutes of steely, vibe-filled techno, misted with ghostly voices and fuelled by one fat, strutting bassline. While it’s undeniably a dance track, there will be moments where you’ll stop and marvel at its sparse, meticulous design, especially when the song’s pace picks up as it enters its subtly intense finale. — Jordan Darville

Western Mass growler Reuven Ender (Gods Wisdom) and Chicago producer/videographer Salem Anhedonia (E_DEATH, fka Edith Underground) met on neutral turf (Pittsburgh) to record their debut album as the duo SRL. Its lead single finds Ender death rattling in time to Anhedonia’s deranged witch house beat, his eternally unsettling vocals giving way to even more discomfiting sex moans as the instrumental crescendos to a critical mass. — Raphael Helfand

Named after the band's violin player Clio Starwood, Man/Woman/Chainsaw's "Ode To Clio" starts at a leisurely pace before slowly gathering momentum until it's being delivered at a sprint so fast the edges begin to blur. Starwood makes her presence felt throughout, gallantly keeping up with the rest of the group as they get heavier and louder, while adding texture to a song that lyrically runs that gamut from betrayal to risk-taking and, ultimately, escape. It's a preview of what the London six-piece have in store on their debut EP Eazy Peazy, due out on November 8. — David Renshaw

"It’s a testament to Rob49’s gravitational star power that he isn’t totally overwhelmed, though unsurprising after hearing him nonchalantly go flex for flex with Lil Baby, Lil Wayne and Luh Tyler. But it's still an impressive showing, like watching Tom Cruise walk away from an explosion in slow motion." — Vivian Medithi, from the July 19 edition of Rap Blog

TSHA’s forthcoming album, Sad Girl, is full of the sumptuous, obscenely catchy house instrumentals that have become the London producer’s calling card. On “Drive,” she sets “Bittersweet Symphony”-style strings to an infectious breakbeat and an open keyboard chord progression — a perfect soundstage for Ingrid Witt’s airy, theatrical vocals. — Raphael Helfand

Last year's Life Under The Gun took hardcore lifers Militarie Gun to unexpected new heights as their impassioned energy struck a chord with those who like their guitars to jangle a little. "Thought You Were Waving" continues the streak, with frontman Ian Shelton singing about missed signals over a chugging riff that makes me think of Pixies' "Where Is My Mind." "I thought you were waving," he says, the regret at the breakdown in communication burning the back of his throat. "Turns out you were drowning." Militarie Gun's fist-pumping approach makes the sorrow feel surmountable. — David Renshaw

"Gem Lingo" is a track that has kept Overmono's most committed fans on tenterhooks since the group debuted it in a radio set earlier this year. Now the full HQ version has been released and it's easy to see why it achieved such rare grail status. Ruthven's impassioned vocals lend the skittering U.K. garage production a soulful undertone, "I can't see my face" he sings at one point, while the threat of "losing it all" stalks his thoughts. Elsewhere his words become harder to decipher as they are chopped and spliced into the mix alongside a muscular bassline and warm, buzzing synths. It's another standout moment from Overmono, a duo who only trade in tracks that send people wild. — David Renshaw

Mexican electro-pop artist Girl Ultra aims to sweep us off our feet on “bruce willisss,” the most immediately club-friendly track on her poised and wildly cool new EP, blush. Built on aqueous guitar noodling and a crystalline house thump, the track imagines a great escape from life’s everyday travails with Girl Ultra as our serene, enchanting guide — who’s dressed to the nines like a certain action star, of course. — Jordan Darville

RIP Swirl's 2022 album Blurry was Berlin DJ Luka Seifert's attempt to create something analog in a digital world, a whirring shoegaze revival record before that was quite so on trend. Today he announces his new album, Perfectly Blue, which is due for release in October. "Negative Fantasy" is pretty and delicate but underneath the haziness is a bassline that sounds like a muffled roar laying in wait. Ariana Mamnoon of rising LA-band untitled (halo) adds a layer of detached cool with her nonchalant vocals. It all comes together to sound like a dark-laced daydream. — David Renshaw

Sarah Davachi’s new piece oozes into being on slow mellotron arpeggios, followed by long, unison tones that disguise the entrance of a viola (Andrew McIntosh) and a trombone (Mattie Barbier). The 11-and-a-half-minute track — selected as the lead single from Davachi’s next album, The Head As Form​’​d In The Crier​’​s Choir — “Possente Spirto” (Latin for “with a mighty spirit”) is another glacial opus in the organist’s towering oeuvre. Like all great drone music, it’s best listened to deeply and without distraction, allowing the listener to sink far beneath the surface sounds into a world of overtones and undercurrents. — Raphael Helfand

You can place the new song from fantasy of a broken heart somewhere between the epic dreamy prog of Mew, Destroyer’s loquacious troubadour stylings, and the jaunt of Randy Newman. In lesser hands, this would usually result in a curious heap of competing sounds and styles, but foabh make it all feel fascinatingly natural. — Jordan Darville

With the frenzy of a self-aware evangelical preacher hauled from some evil swamp and covered in festering bug bites, “I Am Dog Now” is fuelled by a view of humanity as cynical as its regard for its own motivations. “You take! You fucking take!” screams frontman Raygun Busch over a pulverizing noise-rock blast. “I am dog now! Trash mouth! Veins full of garbage!” Redemption is a lie, the song implies, told by those who can’t face the truth of themselves. — Jordan Darville

SPEED is one of the best hardcore bands around right now, but the opening track from their recently released debut album serves as proof that behind the blistering “tough guy” aggression is a more tender and nuanced understanding of what it means to “love.” While it can be hard to spot amid the furious chaos of punishing power chords, brutal breakdowns, and breakneck tempos, “Real Life Love” is defined by the open and thoughtful lyricism hiding just beneath its seemingly unapproachable surface. That said, SPEED have plenty of reasons to be angry with a scene that’s strayed so far from its original values of acceptance and community, condemning all of the superficial beef, fake friendships, and toxic masculinity with an emotionally charged rage. — Sandra Song

“Other Guys” is a mixture of escapist daydreams and grounded references that split the difference between fantasy and reality. Benzvi, backed by Dev Hynes, sings of beautiful people and the passage of time. Their voices have a similarly light, airy quality and merge in and out of one another as the possibility of a new life presents itself as a fleeting idea. Sometimes the greatest life is the one conjured up purely as a thought. — David Renshaw

With their shared inclination towards dreamy ’60s psych-pop, it’s easy to see why Brijean’s “Euphoric Avenue” has been subject to numerous Broadcast comparisons. The biggest difference, however, is that Brijean leans more towards a warm, sunkissed sound, creating a breezy and feel-good atmosphere that truly embodies the new song’s title. Hazy and ethereal, there are brushes of jazz and tropical house, as well as a gently plucked guitar, cinematic strings, and field recordings. And when it’s all delivered through an almost out-of-body, astral-level of reverb, “Euphoric Avenue” turns into a blissed-out tropicália trip that’ll leave you feeling as light as Brijean’s feathery vocals. — Sandra Song

"Sadness isn't even very interesting," Tasha sings on "The Beginning," "But I keep coming back to this old feeling." She wears the heaviness with a deft touch, twinning a heartfelt vocal with breezy, laid-back guitars. Acknowledging the often tedious nature of feeling down, she reframes the gloom (dredging up old memories and keeping the same few songs on repeat) as a chance to connect with a shared spirit. Why spiral into a pit of doubt and anxiety alone, she asks, when we could get shelter in place together? — David Renshaw

MAVI entered 2024 with “drunk prayer,” a song that revealed the deep wounds success had lashed into the rapper. The South Carolina MC’s music is a leatherbound notepad, a place for timeless poetry far from stifling definitions of what’s “lyrical” while remaining enamored with the form of hip-hop. He continues to stir our empathy with “i’m so tired,” another tale of paranoia, self-medication, and a deep bitterness simmering beneath it all. “Flippin’ through the chicken, your fingertips get stained red,” he raps, and even before his voice cracks slightly with emotion, you know he’s not talking about Buffalo wings. His disorienting, engrossing odyssey of guilt feels claustrophobic next to the beat, a tragic and soulful end-credits piano punctuated with metallic SOPHIE-like synth stabs. But even at his most pessimistic, MAVI never loses his defiance, even if it has a pyrrhic quality: “I made it out, I ain’t too worried if they claim me / Mainly if we ain’t co-parent this pain, prefer you hate me.” – Jordan Darville

"Good rappers convince you they're the best alive while their songs are playing; better rappers like Veeze and Rylo Rodriguez casually drop lines that ring in your head while listening to other people's music." — Vivian Medithi, from the July 12 edition of Rap Blog

Riders of public transit will delight in Tanukichan’s new single “City Bus” from her upcoming EP Circles. From Oakland-native Hannah von Loon, the song indicates a new, grittier sound to the shoegaze artist’s catalog. “Feeling the constant start and stop motion making me sway and keep my balance while watching the city go by," she sings, "surrounded by all the different looking people, sounds and smells in SF.” Like the titular vehicle, the song jerks back and forth, reminiscent of a familiar path. — Hannah Sung

Listening to Andrew PM Hunt’s music is like taking a weird walk through the Northern English countryside — or, at least, how someone (me) who’s never taken a weird walk through the Northern English countryside would imagine it to feel. Atlas of Green, his forthcoming album as Dialect, germinated from such excursions, as well as more academic dives into the ancient history of his native Wirral Peninsula. Here, Hunt blends the legends of the past with a vision of the future as a sort of post-apocalyptic Eden, where the record’s protagonist, Green, walks a lonely road of exploration. “Late Fragment” blossoms with glittering, consonant strings, synths, and woodwinds, while strange vocal loops sprout and blow away, dappling the verdant landscape with their quaint detritus. It’s the type of track that rewards repeat listens, each one revealing a new seed to float away on. — Raphael Helfand

Welsh techno producer Kelly Lee Owens is pushing for unbridled joy on the excellent first taste of her upcoming album Dreamstate. "Love You Got" is the sound of Owens willing another to lean into fate, tethering the prospect of what lies on the other side to some of her most straightforwardly bold and uplifting production to date. "Feel these desire lines, they pull like the tide, between you and I," she sings. Resistance is futile. — David Renshaw

Bartees Strange returns in confessional mode, with a hearty and widescreen song written from one of life's in-between moments. "Lie 95" is filled with longing, regret, and a little hope with Bartees is on a quest for new love, be it romantic or merely platonic. Fresh from what sounds like a recent split he's down but not out, positively roaring his way through the lines, "She’s so good I’m dying, now I’m crying / Ain’t no need for lying." It sounds like work on the follow-up to his 2022 album Farm To Table is heading in a blockbuster direction. — David Renshaw

“11:11” is the latest release from Buscabulla, a.k.a. Luis Alfredo Del Valle and Raquel Berrios, the Puerto Rican power couple making infectiously fun electro-pop that’s perfect for cleaning, chilling, or clubbing. Just as bright and wavy as you’d expect, it’s an easy-breezy burst of exuberance and energy that strikes the perfect balance between indie dance and funky blasts of reggaeton, bachata, and salsa. Kept in time by an enthusiastic clap track, you can’t help but soak in “11:11’s” neon-colored mix of pulsing synths and sugary pop vocals, ideally on the beach in your little American Apparel one-piece. — Sandra Song

"Delirio," the new single by Madrid-based Amore, does the Rosalía thing of taking traditional flamenco sounds and sculpting them into a sleeker, more modern shape. There are echoes of Erika De Casier's ASMR&B album Still, too. Co-produced by Amore alongside Dinamarca and Rusia-IDK’s TRISTÁN!, the song pulses gently throughout with subtle percussion and gunshot samples adding a little grit to the smooth sheen. Amore's vocals are understated but heartfelt as she explores the idea of love as a prison, the kind from which there is no release. — David Renshaw

“That One Song” has been floating in the ether for months (an eternity in internet rap years), teased in snippets and at shows, its prominent Deftones sample a supercharged electromagnet for the TikTok generation. It’s finally out now in full, accompanied by a video in which the 17-year-old Richmond rapper takes flight, swimming through the air like he’s in a 2008 5 Gum commercial. Like most music from Nettspend’s cadre, the new track is over in less than two minutes. But this one feels like a fully fleshed-out idea, as he rides Stephen Carpenter’s iconic guitar line and justron’s clipping 808s with unflagging, vocal-fried charisma from start to finish. — Raphael Helfand

Jim Legxacy's first new music of the year is a bittersweet song dedicated to his sister, Atinuke, who passed away at age 19. "nothings changed(!)" is focused on loss, Legxacy refers to Atinuke being on a "phantom holiday" as he steps into empty rooms and hears the songs she loved, but there is an underlying message of hope and perseverance rising up throughout. The midwest emo guitars that twinkled across last year's HNPM remain with drums adding a gentle sway to the U.K. artist's rallying cry. "Nothing's changed," he shouts out to his sibling. "You're still on my mind." It's a wonderful, heartfelt tribute. — David Renshaw

Toronto-based Adam LaFramboise records under the name Clothesline From Hell, a relatively deep-cut WWE reference that nods to the playful nature of his music. Though his earlier material dates back to 2018, LaFramboise is on a hot streak right now with "You Don't Know" arriving soon after the similarly excellent "Open Up!" His Beck-like songs mix acoustic songwriting and processed beats and "You Don't Know" takes the punchy drum machine sound and applies it to lyrics expressing frustration and rage. "Say it to me, do you want to go?" he sings at one point as if he needs holding back from starting a barroom brawl. Maybe those wrestling moves might come in handy. — David Renshaw

L.A.-based shoegaze band Luster have a tranquil yet spin-tingling sound and seem to have a good sense of humor, to boot. "Like I Do" glides, cloud-like, until around the half-way mark when a spoken word sample kicks in. It's tough to make out but you can hear a male voice talking about friendship and adolescent pain working its way into adulthood. The plume of distorted chords is then studded with a dry, almost militaristic beat. It makes me think of the way their Funeral Party label mates crushed mix dream-pop and trip-hop sounds together; those guys should definitely tour together someday. — David Renshaw

Kamixlo first broke out nearly a decade ago, delivering his brutalist take on reggaeton and establishing Bala Club, a party and label highlighting the Latin diaspora operating in London's experimental club scene. An album, Cicatriz, followed in 2020 and later this month he will release DEATHWORK, his first project in four years. Time hasn't mellowed the intensity of his sound, which on "Pitch Black" remains industrial and replete with whirring synths and drums that hit like steel on concrete. Reggaeton vocalist Isabella Lovestory smooths out the edges with her pop-leaning vocals "Pitch Black" is a reminder that Kamixlo's future-facing sound has always been this uncompromising. — David Renshaw

The lead single from Coco & Clair Clair’s next album, Girl, is a knife in gauzy packaging. At surface level, it’s a Y2K-evoking pop song super-engineered for the nostalgia center of TikTok’s mainframe. “You bring the boys, I’ll bring the girls / Have a couple drinks, forget about the world,” Clair Clair croons, adopting a saccharine, sing-song delivery. After the beat kicks in, though, the Atlanta duo are already delivering pointed blows to the NYC socialites stealing their swagger. “They wanna see my ass in jail / Wanna see me fail / You're gonna have to wait for that, exhale,” Coco raps at the start of verse one. “Bitches in New York that I wanna impale / But I know they got a Dimes Square in hell.” After this initial onslaught, though, she and Clair recoat their poison pill in a sugar capsule. “I'm all about love I don't mean to be aggy / It's all good vibes where's the party? Drop the addy,” Coco continues, shifting gears. “Got my jeans on, go ahead, admire the fatty / Lookin' for the one that wants to make my name a tatty.” By the time Clair’s chorus returns, the mean-girl venom has receded beneath a smooth veneer of faux friendliness. — Raphael Helfand

The Adept landed like a mortar shell in April. Featuring at least one guest artist on every track, Kenyan death metal scene leader Martin Kanja’s debut solo LP was not only a direct shot of adrenaline to the jugular, but proof positive of his supreme talent for working in tandem: With Sam Karugu as Duma, he made one of the best records of 2020; and Drunk In Love (or Drunken Love, depending on your DSP of choice), his 2023 joint record with Welsh experimentalist Elvin Brandhi, was no less inspired. “SILENCE IN THE C-DRAL,” a new track with Italian producer Talpah, is an apocalyptic firestorm of a track, built for a club in a bunker miles underground. Like Duma standout “OMNI,” its intense atmosphere tempers Kanja’s tendency toward all-out aggression in favor of something more danceable, if no less doom-inducing. — Raphael Helfand

“jehovah witness” starts with a sensual sweep of dusk-tinged vocals a la “Drunk In Love,” but Amaarae is far from in thrall to anyone. On the track from roses are red, tears are blue, a seven-song expansion on Amaarae's essential 2023 album Fountain Baby, she raps in a squeaky, misleadingly small voice that contains unimpeachable flexes — one is reminded of a Looney Tune character, perhaps a small bird prone to sudden, outsized bellows. She’s as uninhibited as the song’s addictive Afrorave melodies, summoning a sweaty vibe that demands an energetic private afterparty for two, or maybe a few more. — Jordan Darville

The weight of the world, the debut album from California producer Syzy, is the kind of modern dubstep album that you give to people who don’t like modern dubstep: a barrage of Rustie-colored synths rains down on each track, creating mushroom clouds of positive catharsis with every sharp and sudden deviation. It’s not surprising that “ILUUUU” stands out to me, since it samples one of my favorite songs on one of my favorite albums of all time and offers a similarly aggressive, steely beat, though Syzy cuts it with deliriously twinkling builds and drops that are far from cheap EDM festival fodder. — Jordan Darville