Her whispering, spectral delivery and deeply personal lyrics are the key to this. (RO), On his debut album, the 24-year-old Collard mixes sultry jams that recall the electronic funk of MGMT with nods to the greats: Prince, James Brown, Led Zeppelin and Marvin Gaye. Rather than being an album of Oxnard offshoots, Ventura instead borrows heavily from .Paak’s consistently brilliant 2016 record Malibu, itself a fresh slice of soulful funk. Instead, his cold grime sonics are rendered down to their no-frills essentials – brutalist blocks of sad angular melodies and hard, spacious drums. (Alexandra Pollard), It seems as likely as Old Man Steptoe dining with the Rees-Mogg, but this new tactic of burying their confrontational gruesomeness beneath a veneer of alt-rock respectability for album three works well for Fat White Family. Single “Ready to let Go” is by far the most explicit – a moody swamp-rock jam where Shultz comes to terms with his impending divorce. Each track is a standout, none more so than “Ladbroke Grove”, a hat-tip to classic garage in which Tracey switches up his flow to emulate a Nineties MC. Thank goodness that the rest of the album is nothing like that. and Bleachers. For a start, the range of guest performers is a cornucopia of contemporary soul and hip-hop collaborators: vocalists Moses Sumney, Roots Manuva, Heidi Vogel, Grey Reverend and Tawiah; strings player Miguel Atwood-Ferguson, and keyboardist Dennis Hamm – both of whom have worked with Flying Lotus and Thundercat. “Adult Film” features a gorgeous piano riff; the Pete Rock-produced “The Art of It” has a delicious funk vibe; “It Never Ends” comes full circle via a bright piano loop. Twelve Nudes is Furman’s most urgent and cathartic record to date. Tracks are at once astute and deeply personal in how they capture vignettes of everyday life and spin them into important lessons. Written in the aftermath of Hackman’s split from fellow musician Amber Bain – aka The Japanese House, who released her own reflection on their break-up on her debut album Good at Falling – Any Human Friend is a satisfyingly dismal affair that is certainly not suitable for the four-year-old who inspired it. You’ll already have heard “Nothing Breaks Like a Heart”, on which Miley Cyrus channels the quavering, fearless bluegrass spirit of her godmother Dolly Parton over a briskly plucked guitar. The fragmented strings in “Movies”, a song about the falsities of Hollywood romance, recall the chaotic minimalism of Arthur Russell. That snare drum keeps a relentless, nerve-snapping pulse throughout, with Jacklin sounding more confident in her contradictions: at once yearning to comfort a lover she’s dumped and then, on “Head Alone”, declaring: “I don’t wanna be touched all the time/ I raised my body up to be mine.” Ah. One minute you’re skanking along to the party brass of “Bloodline”; the next floating into the semi-detached, heartbreak of “Ghostin’”, which appears to address Grande’s guilt at being with Davidson while pining for Miller. The album’s lead single, “Me!”, is peppy and poppy in all the wrong ways, a rictus grin of a song that rings hollow. “When I’m headlining next time,” she announced, “I’m gonna need my motherf**king ears to work.” Judging by the strength of her third album, that might not be such an implausible assumption. Want an ad-free experience?Subscribe to Independent Premium. (Roisin O'Connor), No one could accuse Lizzo of holding back. But it is gratifying to hear her take control. Backing singers Leisa Hans and Ashley Wilcoxson add texture to the grooving “Lo/Hi”, while the languid “Sit Around and Miss You” is Stealers Wheels by way of the Deep South. Overall, The Black Keys aren’t putting on personas or adding fancy instrumentation, nor are they touting a rock masterpiece. Want to bookmark your favourite articles and stories to read or reference later? The bass and riff-driven “Now That You’re Gone” feels stripped back by comparison; it’s perfectly crafted. Please be respectful when making a comment and adhere to our Community Guidelines. Guest rapper Kojey Radical takes on the role of preacher for “Ground Control”. It’s a bittersweet mourning of her past. Fans will be surprised to discover Tracey sings almost as much as he raps, in pleasingly gruff tones. It couldn’t be more timely. Grunge-rinsed, feminist-flipped, upcycled Fifties guitar an’ all: Crushing is a triumph. All Rights Reserved, This is a BETA experience. (Alexandra Pollard), Assisted by veteran producer John Congleton (St Vincent, John Grant), he channels the spirit of David Bowie and Iggy Pop. Since that first record, Mushonga has begun to incorporate themes of empowerment into her work. This is precisely what Rapsody has done – in the most resonant way possible. This homage is never overbearing or cringe like in the sense Greta Van Fleet is to Led Zeppelin, but rather innovative in how The Black Keys breathe new life into long cherished rock sub-genres. “Disconnect me from my bones, so I can float, so I can roam,” sings Brownstein – her singular voice all yelps and creaks – on “Hurry On Home”. There are moments that recall her Communion labelmate Ben Howard, on his latest album, Noonday Dream, and others that nod to the quiet stoicism of Joni Mitchell and Neil Young. She sings about the fear of the unknown on “Flying Blind” – her steely determination on this record has you believing that she’ll take the leap regardless. “Something magical happened one night,” she sings. l enjoyed the muted, Afro-tinged authenticity of “Level Up” and the conscious, pasty-girl reggae of “Business Dinners” (on which she refuses to be an industry angel) and I loved the Robyn-esque rush of “Basic” (which sees her yearning to shed love’s complications). It’s technically a follow-up to 2014’s The Wild, the Wilderness, but the newfound boldness on this new work is startling. The production here is superb. (Roisin O’Connor), If you want to know how hard it is to categorise Titanic Rising – the enthralling fourth album from Weyes Blood – look no further than the American musician’s own attempt to do so. If there’s any justice, its follow-up, Saves the World, should see MUNA joining the ranks of those who have brazenly borrowed their sound. He has Springsteen’s rousing holler, and the early indications of someone who could be the voice of a generation – not because he wants to be, but because he sees things and understands. Opener “Warm Hands”, from Segall’s self-titled 2017 LP, is essentially an epic jam; he grinds out fuzzy distortion and squalling riffs for a solid nine and a half minutes with a gleeful lawlessness. The singer-songwriter’s nomadic personality is reflected in the vast scale of reference points on her new record, In a Galaxy. The way she has structured this record takes the listener through the complicated yet nuanced emotions of a woman who has recently learnt to accept everything she feels. Several tracks tap into a Nineties R&B sound that UK women, from Mabel to Ella Mai, are excelling at right now. Help Us Stranger has been a long time coming, but it was worth the wait. (Helen Brown), With praise from Kendrick Lamar, five EPs released by the time she was 21, tours with Lauryn Hill, collaborations with Gorillaz and two critically praised albums – including 2017’s excellent concept album Stillness in Wonderland – fans and critics alike wondered what else Little Simz could do to find the kind of mainstream success enjoyed by so many of her male peers. Yet neither can claim to be as fiendishly catchy as Let’s Rock, a record that can scarcely sit still. “Under The Gun,” “Lo/Hi,” and “Every Little Thing” display late 60’s early 70’s rock tropes, with “Lo/Hi” being a clear nod to Norman Greenbaum’s “Spirit In The Sky.” Other memorable tracks like “Breaking Down” and “Walk Across The Water” prescribe a small dose of beach rock, and offer a pleasant break from the harder hitting songs. There’s a sax on “Sacrament” that’s loaded with longing, while the grunge-gospel stylings of “Merciless” offer ominous guitars and Collard’s reverent croons. Now it’s a standout on this album. Danger Mouse is known for genre-hopping collaborations with artists such as Beck, the Black Keys and CeeLo Green, and he applies that approach here, too: the album is an impressive mix of blissed-out synths, psych-rock guitars and trippy hip-hop beats. From the brawny opening track, “Shine a Little Light”, to the feel-good boogie rock of “Tell Me Lies” and “Get Yourself Together” to songs that mash up Creedence with ’70s AM pop (“Sit Around and Miss You”), Auerbach and Carney dish out a record that stylishly fetishizes rock music’s golden age. (Alex Pollard). The Black Keys fully realize that as a self-guided, guitar-centered rock band, they are outliers in the 2010s; very few rock bands formed in the 21st … It’s enjoyable to where even mild fans would like this record, highlighting the band’s accessibility and widespread appeal. By the end of the album, he sounds like a figurehead for the hopeful future. “I could be the rapper with a message like you’re hoping, but what’s the point in me being the best if no one knows it?” he challenges on “Psycho”, which flips scattershot between beats and moods as though the track itself is schizophrenic. Aside from “Happiness Is a Butterfly”, that is. You may opt-out by. (Jack Shepherd), Two years after the release of his Mercury Prize-nominated debut Yesterday’s Gone, the south London hip-hop artist unveils its follow-up, Not Waving, But Drowning. But where the 2017 Nordic Music Prize-winning Blood Bitch was packed with visceral imagery and disarming sonics, the themes of The Practice of Love are encased in a warm cocoon of poetry, blissed-out circling synths and trance-like Nineties beats.