Quazarz Born On A Gangster Star & Quazarz vs. The Jealous Machines, by Shabazz Palaces
“[I]magine an alternate universe where the trappings of success lead hip-hop’s anti-heroes to devise their own trap. Sound too close to home? Well, that’s exactly what the protagonist encounters among the ‘ethers of the Migosphere here on Drake world.’ But Quazarz hasn’t come to destroy; he’s come to deconstruct and shine a light.”
Saturation, by Brockhampton
“HEAT,” in particular, with its blown-out bass and frantic vocals, explodes with id—a moment of catharsis for both the rappers and the listener. McLennon’s “I hate the way I think, I hate the way it looms” sounds more proud than afraid.
Big Fish Theory, by Vince Staples
Here, the songs run on high-powered verses that tumble and split to accommodate the current, and his rapping is noticeably fleeter and more efficient.
Imaginations, by Molly Nilsson
[I]f the Swedish musician has reinterpreted pop music it’s by de-cluttering it of contrived image and big budget campaign-trail tricks, either by design or necessity of making everything in her bedroom.
The God Box, by David Banner
I can’t find any reviews proper for this record but holy fire is it a show-stopper.
The Wave, by Los Colognes
The Nashville five-piece Los Colognes third studio album The Wave is a pristine work of bright indie/dream pop that brightens any speakers it flows through. It is an ear-catching, complete artistic work from a group that is clearly gaining in confidence.
Of course, Kendrick goes without saying. But, your other listen should be:
Season High, by Little Dragon
This is a bold album, and it’s often a funky one too. Prince’s spirit hangs heavy; Little Dragon knew what they were doing when they named one song “The Pop Life.” But even in the most Prince-damaged tracks, there’s enough restless experimentation going on that it never feels like imitation.
Whiteout Conditions, by The New Pornographers
As a whole, the new record expands Brill’s buzzy, synth-forward sound. The Pornos weave solid blocks of interwoven guitars, keyboards, vocals and rhythms. Add Newman’s impermeable, sometimes overstuffed, lyrics to the mix and this can be a dense listening experience – albeit one that remains attractive in its deployment of melody, pretty voices and pulsing percussion.
Bloodlust, by Body Count
And while plenty of acts have chosen to speak out on such issues, few have come across as fearless as Body Count do here. Compared to their goofy, cartoonish return on Manslaughter, Bloodlust proves that there’s still plenty of substance within, the sort of heavy, mercilessly politicised material that Body Count do exceptionally well.
ALBUM REVIEW: ‘Bloodlust’ by Body Count