Posted on 05 January 2025.
As the Music Director of WMEB 91.9, the college radio station of the University of Maine, I am tasked with listening to five or so albums each week. The albums that I and our other Music Director collect are then sent to our DJs for their listening pleasure and use on their shows. We work with our other staff members to share our selected picks with a broader audience through weekly postings on our Instagram page (@wmeb919).
This year, I ended up listening to around 250 albums in total. Below, I share my thoughts about my top six records and others that I thought were among the finest.
Geordie Greep – The New Sound
Black Midi was supposed to be one of the greats. Its bizarre meld of complex prog riffs with intense punk energy, art-school sensibilities and a vaudevillian flair represented the closest that a truly avant-garde project came to being an indie staple in recent years. The most intriguing part of Black Midi was always its vocalist and frontman, Geordie Greep. Greep, a small-framed, well-coiffed, impeccably-dressed young man with an impossible-to-place accent, cuts the sort of unorthodox profile you may expect from a minor character in a Wes Anderson film. His bizarro narratives and indescribable vocal style were often what kept Black Midi apart from the other talky art-punk bands that came out of Brixton’s Windmill club and the Speedy Wunderground label, and separate from most other prog bands that often prioritize instrumental noodling over good songwriting.
Greep lived up to his reputation as an eccentric this past August, when he unceremoniously announced the indefinite dissolution of Black Midi on an Instagram livestream after over a year of speculation. The reasons for their disbandment are multi-faceted and I don’t feel the need to get into them, but it is clear that the band probably isn’t coming back soon, if ever. Like any good rock band, after their acrimonious split, the members all embarked on their own competing solo endeavors, with Greep shortly thereafter kicking off the press tour for his first solo record, “The New Sound.”
Of the immediate differences between Black Midi and Greep’s solo work, one is that Greep’s is considerably more focused in its purpose. Black Midi’s albums contained so many ideas, each delivered with the same skittish manic energy, that they often made for an overwhelming listening experience. “The New Sound,” however, is pointedly obsessed with its central concept: the roots of impotence and male insecurity. “Blues,” the manic introduction that picks up where Black Midi had left off with its straightforward prog, sets the tone for the whole affair with its bitterly insecure lyrics, describing an exaggeratedly virile man and his overcompensated vanity with a sneering resentment. “Holy, Holy,” the lead single and an innovative blend of aggressively angular guitars with relentless mambo rhythms, features Greep’s character perpetrating a desperate charade to convince other patrons of the establishment he frequents that he’s a conqueror of women, some kind of captivatingly-charming Lothario. One particular line of “Holy, Holy” proved so contentious that it briefly became a cause célèbre in certain corners of X shortly after its release (as members accused Greep of glorifying misogyny), but make no mistake: there are no heroes to be found here, only pitiful shells of men.
Male sexual frustration is a clear throughline across “The New Sound:” during the disquieting serenity of “As If Waltz,” Greep’s character describes an ephemeral imagined romance with a prostitute and lists all the pleasant activities they could do together, “as if” she were not in a brothel. But the protagonist of this song is not purehearted in his intent. He seems to covet the anticipated transgression of such a relationship much more than the personal intimacy that it would bring, and his fantasies vanish when he’s done using her. Greep’s assessment of desire is decidedly unromantic, and it’s never clear whether his characters are motivated more by their loneliness or their perversion. Greep’s revulsion of these thoroughly emasculated men makes an introspective turn inevitable. “The Magician,” the record’s twelve-minute climax, turns the floodlights towards Greep himself with more tender emotional understanding than displayed anywhere else throughout his discography. It’s this depth, and Greep’s ability to make sympathetic portraits of the wastrels who populate his stories, that elevates “The New Sound” beyond cheap gross-out satire.
Besides Greep’s unmatched narrative abilities, “The New Sound” is an album with no shortage of beautiful instrumental passages either, as Greep knows when to let the music speak for itself. The title track, for instance, is a fully-instrumental samba-jazz piece faithful to the conventions of the genre. In addition, perhaps because of the tighter thematic core and Greep’s singular vision, the proggier moments feel more purposeful than most of what Black Midi produced. “Motorbike,” for example, flits between graceful moments sung by HMLTD’s Seth Evans to extended of unyielding maximalist excess as seamlessly as imaginable. Some of the best moments come when Greep embraces his other influences, like on “Bongo Season’s” easygoing imitation of “Remain in Light,” or on finale “If You Are But a Dream,” a straightforward standard number delivered without a hint of the satire and judgement that pervades the rest of the album. The earnesty with which these songs are performed provides “The New Sound” with a healthy counterweight to Greep’s colorful cynicism.
The compelling musicianship and rich storytelling displayed throughout “The New Sound” render it an easy contender for the most impressive album of 2024 and an exciting start to the career of Geordie Greep.
Father John Misty – Mahashmashana
If there’s a poet laureate of millennial angst and 21st-century ironic detachment, it would be Father John Misty. The pseudonym of Los Angeles singer-songwriter Josh Tillman has become a byword for an outlook denoted by a particular sardonic cynicism of the Recession era, usually eliciting eyerolls from those who do not share it. While Tillman’s albums are among the most engaging of the past decade, his aloof public demeanor and dull attempts in poking fun at modern society have kept him from receiving many of the accolades he deserves.
The cultural zeitgeist has certainly shifted since Tillman began his career with Fleet Foxes in the late 2000s. Righteous millennial indignation about the state of the world gave way to corrosive, hopeless apathy after the first Trump term and the pandemic wrecked millions of lives and wrapped all of us deeper inside our own heads. Tillman’s self-deprecatory, fourth-wall-breaking lyrical tendencies would still be amusing if he kept at them, but would eventually come off as somewhere between annoyingly quaint and gratingly selfish in a world where artistic expression is so dearly threatened. On “Mahashmashana,” Tillman proves once and for all that he’s up to the task. He sings about life and death, faith and its abandonment and the pointlessness of optimism, all with the renewed urgency of an artist finally comfortable with himself and increasingly uncomfortable with where our world has gone.
The artists who we remember most fondly as visionaries are those who had the ambition to break free and build beyond whatever brief cultural moment they spawned from. For years, I’ve argued for Tillman’s inclusion in this hall of great songwriters to anyone who would listen. His evolution on “Mahashmashana” will thus be a valuable tool in my ongoing campaign, as Tillman covers more diverse musical ground over the course of this fifty-minute album than he had in his entire career leading up to it. On rollicking rocker “She Cleans Up,” a breathless Tillman gets unexpected compositional help from the Swedish punk blues band Viagra Boys, while “I Guess Time Just Makes Fools of Us All” is an eight-minute cut of pure funk with an extended horn solo. Indie folk this is not. “Screamland,” a track unlike any other he’s ever written, utilizes the kind of impossibly vast arena-pop-adjacent soundscape that Tillman himself would have surely mocked a decade ago.
Most impressive of all is his newfound dedication to sincerity, which he previously struggled to express if he wasn’t also making fun of it. While Tillman claims in the limited press releases surrounding this record that he sought to completely remove traces of himself in his songwriting, this record hints more at his personal perspective than any song he had released before. Gone are the self-satisfied one liners and reductive assessments of pop culture, replaced by a deeper understanding of the world and his role in it. It’s ironic that “Mahashmashana” means ‘great cremation ground’ in Sanskrit, for when those words exit Tillman’s lips and crest over the titanic orchestral wave, it sounds like an artist reborn.
Magdalena Bay – Imaginal Disk
It’s damn hard to do a good concept album, as anyone who’s ever tried to sit through a prog record could tell you. Not only must an artist deliver a thematically-complete musical product that adequately addresses their concerns without being too impenetrable or obvious, but in a world where music has become as much about capturing a cultural moment as the songs themselves (see: ‘Brat Summer’), their dedication to the theme must also be evident from their promotional materials and general aesthetic. We remember Ziggy Stardust, and we remember the Thin White Duke, but do we remember Halloween Jack, David Bowie’s persona during the “Diamond Dogs” era? No, because the entire B-side of the record is tacky shlock and Bowie abandoned the persona almost immediately. Something about the digital age especially—maybe its newness, maybe its omnipresence—has proven difficult to critique without coming across as sophomoric.
Thankfully, Magdalena Bay (a duo consisting of Mica Tenenbaum and Matt Levin) understood the challenges they faced when set out to tackle the consequences of digitally-induced depersonalization on their album “Imaginal Disk.” Whatever science fiction world building or social commentary Magdalena Bay are attempting, their lyrics are grounded in honest concerns applicable to a wide range of topics relevant beyond the art itself. Instead of singing narratives about what the characters contained within the songs are doing, the folly of many conceptual album narratives, they focus primarily on how the characters are feeling. In doing so, they ensure their songs’ timeless universality.
The world created by Magdalena Bay is fittingly post modern in its approach to genre: “Watching T.V.,” a more conventional indie rock song is gradually taken over by crunched synthesizers and chopped, stuttering vocal effects, while playlist favorite “Image” has a distinct disco inflection. Moreover, there’s rarely a dull moment in the songwriting itself. Nervy “Tunnel Vision” threatens to get too wrapped up in itself, but only before the track suddenly cascades into a dramatic drum breakdown. On “Love is Everywhere,” the weightless vocals of Mica are brought back down to Earth by disgustingly-funky rhythm sections that would make Parliament proud. All are held together by ethereal chillwave interludes that feel like being suspended in the DVD menu of a Wii Sports game. The hooks are undeniable and their universe is captivating. “Imaginal Disk” is a true triumph.
M.J. Lenderman – Manning Fireworks
Every year, it seems like the music press plucks a new artist from the indie sphere to turn into a mainstream alternative star, with Mitski, Phoebe Bridgers and Japanese Breakfast all having received the dubious honor in years past. But with the youngest generation of tastemakers eschewing confessional indie folk in favor of camo caps and borrowed working-class street cred, this year’s chosen superstar was Asheville singer-songwriter MJ Lenderman, fresh off the heels of a stellar live record and a tour with the band Wednesday, for whom he plays guitar.
With “Manning Fireworks,” his third solo record, Lenderman positions himself as the successor to alt-country greats like David Berman and Jason Molina. No doubt, Lenderman wears those influences on his sleeve, and the markers of his musical touchstones are evident throughout the record. The blunt observational lyricism and kitchen-sink characterizations of Berman and Malkmus’ Silver Jews (“Wristwatch”), the indie rock rawness of early Wilco (“Rudolph”), the Southern gothic mysticism of Drive-By Truckers (“On My Knees”) and reedy vocals that unmistakably call back to Molina and Neil Young (“Manning Fireworks”).
It’s easy to see Lenderman as only the sum of these influences. But where “Manning Fireworks” succeeds is that not only does it lift from all of its forebears, it also synthesizes them and lays the groundwork for something more compelling in the future. It’s not “Yankee Hotel Foxtrot” or “Magnolia Electric Co.,” but listening to the clarinets and wah pedals that duel for your attention on “You Don’t Know the Shape I’m In” or the brooding post-rock coda of “Bark at the Moon” that closes the album, it’s easy to hear the foundation for a potential masterpiece. For now, though, MJ Lenderman has put out a lean and uncomplicated collection of alt-country numbers.
Nilufer Yanya – My Method Actor
Nilufer Yanya is an artist who first came to my attention in 2022, when her second album “PAINLESS” unexpectedly asserted itself among my favorite albums of that year, attracting me with its eclectic production and her innate ability to write a hook (“the dealer,” “midnight sun”). While I adored that album, I felt the discrepancy between her expert melodic sense. and the more vulnerable mid–tempo album cuts led to uneven pacing as the album progressed. On this year’s release, “My Method Actor,” all of these traits that first made me a fan are refined and expanded with remarkable precision. Although the songs on “PAINLESS” overflowed with nervous energy, “My Method Actor” is consistent and restrained. She knows how to let each moment of the record breathe on its own, from the smoky string section on “Faith’s Late” to the distant, buzzy electronics on spacious closer “Wingspan.”
One of the most appealing aspects of Yanya’s music is that even as a relative newcomer she has carved out a sound that is unmistakably hers. While borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered 90s remains a defining trend of the first half of the decade, it is Yanya who seems most comfortable with this palette, as evident by the manner in which muted double-tracked acoustic guitars give way to fuzzed-out electrics on the chorus of the title track, or how a syncopated mechanical drumbeat a la Radiohead’s “In Rainbows” provides a propulsive element to the otherwise mellow spaciness of “Mutations.”
If Yanya’s debut and “PAINLESS” announce her arrival as an artist, “My Method Actor” sees her assert her position as one of the most talented singer-songwriters working today.
Vampire Weekend – Only God Was Above Us
The best album of the year is Vampire Weekend’s “Only God Was Above Us” (OGWAU). OGWAU’s prominent position atop this year’s rankings comes not from its thematic cohesiveness, its strong melodic sense or its wonderfully eccentric production choices, although it has all of these traits in spades. Instead, it comes from its metatextual attributes, as it seems impossible to fully understand this album without understanding the trajectory of Vampire Weekend as a band. The songs, laden with self-reference, frame Koenig’s reflections about society alongside the development of the band itself. The vaunted 2000s indie scene in New York City has all but dried up, and the better world promised by the Obama campaign and Occupy Wall Street failed to arrive. The quaint collegiate vibe of their debut and the summery pop of Contra seem worlds away now. The band entered a sort of wilderness period after losing keyboardist, producer and secondary songwriter Rostam Batmanglij, culminating in the wild jam band detour that is 2019’s wild “Father of the Bride.”
Much like Vampire Weekend itself, the songs are weathered and aged, leaning less on knowledge gleaned from assigned readings and more confident in drawing from their worldly experiences. In a particularly poignant moment, during the verse of “Connect” in which Koenig croons “I know that once it’s lost it’s never found,” the iconic drumline from the debut’s opening track “Mansard Roof”—for many of us, our very first exposure to Vampire Weekend, including myself at six years old—plays as Koenig laments losing something perceptible but ultimately indescribable, like youth and the seemingly simpler times that accompanied it.
For those of us who have grown alongside the band, moments like these are deeply affecting. But these moments never feel like they’re playing the hits in a pathetic simulacra of the good old days, for Koenig infuses them with his unmistakable self-awareness and sly turns of phrase. Tracks like “Prep-School Gangsters” prove that he’s still got his fastball, with the instrumentation an obvious riff on the first album which saw the music press deride Vampire Weekend as the same snobbish preppies referenced in the title, as does the melodious “Classical,” where Koenig inverts the name of a fast food franchise to make surprisingly astute assessments on the nature of historiography.
As ever, Koenig taps into rather specific neuroses of our modern world and makes them feel universal. He makes many of the same clever social observations about class and behavior that he became renowned for, but now they feel deeper, more reasoned. While previous Vampire Weekend records reflected more on the stories of individuals affected by socio-political influences (class warfare, the search for meaning, interreligious strife, Koenig’s own fatherhood) and imbued them with a sense of worldliness through endless cultural references, OGWAU is the first Vampire Weekend album where Koenig’s concerns are directly applied to the world at large. On “Capricorn,” blown-out guitars shriek as he bemoans coming of age in a world that has already passed you by, both reflecting his own concerns about nearing middle age and voicing a common refrain among younger generations. The somber laid-back soukou that is “Pravda” seems to address our increased fallibility to dissemination, while choral trip-hop standout “Mary Boone” laments the loss of a working-class New York City, where rent has increased and the city often seems like little more than a playground for the well-to-do.
With its introspective and metatextual qualities, “Only God Was Above Us” could have easily been pitched as the final Vampire Weekend album. It would certainly be a fitting end for a group which has already proven itself several times over. Yet the band seems more invigorated than ever, embarking on a full tour and engaging with fans more than at any point this decade. Whatever is next for Vampire Weekend, the thematic substance and sonic adventurousness of “Only God Was Above Us” sees them at the height of their powers and taking a well-earned position atop this list.
While these six records were my absolute favorites, they were far from the only records I loved in 2024. Here are some others that I found myself returning to:
Adrianne Lenker – Bright Future
The newest solo album from the songstress behind “Big Thief” is beautiful and rewarding, even if the profound melancholy that seeps throughout the album and slows its pacing sometimes hampers the ability of the album to truly breathe.
Arooj Aftab – Night Reign
I don’t know much about ghazal, but I do know that the chamber jazz-infused nocturnal version of it created on “Night Reign” by internationally-recognized Artist Arooj Aftab is about as sublimely entrancing as music can be.
Beth Gibbons – Lives Outgrown
Even though Beth Gibbons has had a major role in the development of alternative music, being a vocalist and songwriter for Portishead, this is only her fifth full-length studio album ever, and her second project under her own name. Gibbons peeks out from the dark on the evocative “Lives Outgrown,” backed by sweeping cinematic strings and thunderous drums. This album’s strength lies in the admirable lack of excess and the consistent atmosphere built throughout. With that said, the finest moments are those that escalate the tension between the haunting instrumental palette and Gibbons’ fragile vocals, like the disorienting klezmer passage on “Beyond the Sun.”
Cameron Winter – Heavy Metal
As the stock of Cameron Winter and his band Geese rises, so does the divisiveness around his warbly, untrained vocals. For my part, I love them, and I also loved everything about “Heavy Metal,” from his unexpectedly soulful performance to the cryptic passion in the lyrics to some avant-garde instrumentation.
Chat Pile – Cool World
The highest compliment I can give to “Cool World” is that it embodies the feeling of our times. “Cool World” is a distillation of the anger, the distrust and the brutality displayed by the cascade of constantly escalating anguish. Chat Pile writes songs for the world we actually live in, not the one we think we do. It’s not an easy listen, but it’s a necessary one.
Cindy Lee – Diamond Jubilee
Cindy Lee is hard to find. The side project of the reclusive Patrick Flegel, former vocalist of underappreciated 2000s post-punk icons “Women,” is not available on any major streaming service. But the fact that “Diamond Jubilee” has garnered so much attention anyways is a testament to the quality of this record, a dizzying lo-fi take on a dreamy psychedelic sound filtered through the hits of a lost pop canon. The impact is hampered somewhat by its sheer breadth of scope, with 32 tracks and over two hours of runtime, but I guarantee that the elusive “Diamond Jubilee” is well worth the effort.
English Teacher – This Could Be Texas
The debut of English Teacher, Britain’s newest art school post-punk outfit, proves that the scene based around Brixton’s Windmill venue will continue to influence coming generations of songwriters even as the scene itself has declined. Although English Teacher often sounds a bit too much like their forebears, “This Could Be Texas” is varied and engaging enough to suggest that English Teacher could soon be a band that joins them in the 2020s canon.
Fontaines D.C. – Romance
The melodic turn embraced by Irish post-punkers Fontaines D.C. is unexpected but understandable as the band increases their profile, having been tapped for a tour with Arctic Monkeys and appearing on former U.S. president Barack Obama’s personal year-end list. They pull off the shift well, the deftness with which they trade their gothic roots for a lush alternative rock sound making “Romance” sound more like a natural evolution and less like a commercial ploy.
Hakushi Hasegawa – Mahogakko
The listener’s attention is a precious and fickle thing. It’s difficult to make music that frustrates and disorients yet still manages to maintain that attention for half an hour. On “Mahogakko,” however, Japanese artist Hakushi Hasegawa defies the odds and does exactly that. There’s a saying that you have to know the rules in order to break them, and Hasegawa proves this maxim with their audacious blend of experimental glitch hop and blissful Japanese folk music.
Juliana Gattas – Maquillada en la cama
Chilean producer Alex Andwandter’s hot streak continues on “Maquillada en la cama,” where he and Miranda! vocalist Juliana Gattas produce a solid 34 minutes of playful Minoguesque nu-disco grooves.
Mabe Fratti – Sentir que no sabes
Guatemalan cellist Mabe Fratti has only continued to improve over the course of her career, both as a soloist and with the avant-garde group Titanic. Her latest album, “Sentir que no sabes,” has seen her continue to hone her particular blend of electroacoustic production with ominous jazz, all rooted in a deep understanding of the classical tradition.
Mannequin Pussy – I Got Heaven
In an interview promoting the release of “I Got Heaven,” vocalist Marisa Dabice described the opening and title track as “a meeting of the sacred and the profane.” Dabice makes an apt description of the Philadelphia heroes’ new effort, which combines their characteristically blistering punk sound with subdued and melodic indie rock to great effect.
Porter Robinson – SMILE! 
The ongoing 2000s revival reaches its peak with the sugar rush of boyish producer Porter Robinson’s “SMILE! :D.” While many have pursued the plasticized “indie sleaze” aesthetic over the past two years (Snow Strippers, The Hellp, The Dare) to varying results, Porter Robinson’s high-octane electropop sounds less like pastiche and more like an authentic expression of himself.
Tapir! – The Pilgrim, Their God, and the King of My Decrepit Mountain
Of all the many debuts of 2024, that of Tapir! is the most impressive. The band cuts a similar profile to their predecessors in the so-called “Windmill Scene” that produced luminaries like Black Country, New Road and Squid: a larger than usual cast of instrumentalists, a vocalist who can’t really sing and certain effects that make them prone to accusations of pretentiousness (the title and in-album narration) alongside layered, dense composition. Yet Tapir! manage to separate itself from the pack and produce a unique sound on this album. “The Pilgrim…” is filled with lovely moments of lush serenity and a careful, meditative approach to melody that makes them sound well beyond their years.
The Cure – Songs of a Lost World
Usually, after almost fifty years of collaboration and touring, even legendary bands run out of steam. “Songs of a Lost World” proves that the years have not weathered the skills of the Cure, but have only sharpened and informed them.
This is Lorelei – Box for Buddy, Box For Star
The stylistic ground covered by prolific pop auteur Nate Amos (performing here as This is Lorelei) is impressive considering he uses an uncomplicated instrumental assortment and a relatively limited vocal register to create his breezy, unsophisticated indie pop with a Western inflection.
Willi Carlisle – Critterland
The strength of the disarmingly charming cowboy troubadour Willi Carlisle lies in that he can spin modern tales with a traditionalist palette without ever sounding anachronistic. The seven-minute a capella closer, “The Money Grows on Trees,” is exemplar in this respect: while the web that entangled the small-time drug empire of Arkansas sheriff Ralph Baker with botched murder investigations and the Clinton Administration is easy to Google, Carlisle plays it like a well-worn oral tradition from the frontier days. See him live if you can!
Besides this set of favorites, I also recommend these additional albums that I enjoyed in 2024:
2hollis – boy
Aaron Lee Tasjan – Stellar Evolution
Anna Tivel – Living Thing
Allie X – Girl With No Face
Asian Glow – Unwired Detour
Beabadoobee – This Is How Tomorrow Moves
Been Stellar – Scream from New York, NY
Bibi Club – Feu de garde
Bladee – Cold Visions
Bonny Light Horseman – Keep Me on Your Mind/See You Free
Boris Pupul – Letter to Yu
Brittany Howard – What Now
Cassandra Jenkins – My Light, My Destroyer
Chanel Beads – Your Day Will Come
Charli XCX – BRAT
Chelsea Wolfe – She Reaches Out To She Reaches Out To She
Cime – The Cime Interdisciplinary Music Ensemble
Clairo – Charm
Confidence Man – 3AM (La La La)
Crizin da Z.O. – Acelero
Erika de Casier – Still
Fabiana Palladino – Fabiana Palladino
Fat Dog – WOOF.
Faye Webster – Underdressed at the Symphony
Fazerdaze – Soft Power
Fievel is Glauque – Rong Weicknes
Friko – Where we’ve been, Where we go from here
Ginger Root – SHINBANGUMI
Haley Heynderickx – Seed of a Seed
Halo Maud – Celebrate
Hana Vu – Romanticism
Iglooghost – Tidal Memory Exo
Jessica Pratt – Here in the Pitch
Joeyy – Try
Julia Holter – Something in the Room She Moves
Kali Malone – All Life Long
Kendrick Lamar – GNX
King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard – Flight b741
Kirin J. Callinan – If I Could Sing
Laura Marling – Patterns in Repeat
Lip Critic – Hex Dealer
Luna Li – When a Thought Grows Wings
Mach-Hommy – #RICHAXXHAITIAN
Mary Timony – Untame the Tiger
Matt Champion – Mika’s Laundry
Meaningful Stone – Angel Interview
MGMT – Loss of Life
Mk.gee – Two Star & the Dream Police
Molly Nilsson – Un-American Activities
Nala Sinephro – Endlessness
Nia Archives – Silence Is Loud
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – Wild God
Parannoul – Sky Hundred
Pom Poko – Champion
Raveena – Where the Butterflies Go in the Rain
Ravyn Lenae – Bird’s Eye
RiTchie – Triple Digits [112]
Rosali – Bite Down
salute – TRUE MAGIC
Sarah Kinsley – Escaper
Saya Gray – QWERTY II
Slater – FM Thoughts
St. Vincent – All Born Screaming
Tek lintowe – KILL YOU
The Decemberists – As It Ever Was, So It Will Be Again
The Hellp – LL
The Lemon Twigs – A Dream Is All We Know
The Marías – Submarine
The Smile – Cutouts
The Softies – The Bed I Made
The WAEVE – City Lights
Tyler, the Creator – CHROMAKOPIA
Wand – Vertigo
Waxahatchee – Tigers Blood
Wishy – Triple Seven
Xiu Xiu – 13″ Frank Beltrame Italian Stiletto With Bison Horn Grips
Yard Act – Where’s My Utopia?
