Caroline Polachek: Desire, I Want to Turn into You
For four songs she pulls off a unification of late 20th century big hit energy with the broadened possibilities of contemporary sonics, sexuality, and why not post-sexuality; thereafter the album regresses to semipop (pejorative)—I wouldn’t advise Grimes and Dido as role models vocally or otherwise—without letting the excitement dissipate entirely, and Polachek keeps it clear that she’s her own woman in her own time (“Welcome to My Island”, “Sunset”, “Bunny Is a Rider”)
The Casual Dots: Sanguine Truth
First-gen riot grrl turned interdisciplinary MFA Christine Billotte reconvenes an old trio that sounds a bit like Elastica and a bit like Shopping and thus a lot like Wire, with Billotte content to have her repetitive guitar leads speak through brash tone, often letting Bikini Kill’s Kathi Wilcox’s bass define the melody, while her singing is strong yet soothing in its lived interdisciplinary experience (“The Setting Sunrise”, “Descending”, “Gypsum Mortar”)
“About Estrada’s first love, and the profound grief that accompanied its end,” and often as sad-sack as that suggests, but the horns and even the strings work most of the time, and she does a good enough job at making the words sound poetic that I’m not going risk pulling the translations (“La Corriente”, “Sabré Olvidar”, “Tristeza”)
Todrick Hall: Femuline Gaymeova
Queer dance-pop-rap—I know, how could you have guessed from the title—in the vein of Lil Nas X, except as an Idol alum he’s a better singer, which doesn’t matter since all that does are a few big obnoxious hooks and many small obnoxious hooks that provide absolutely unchallenging pleasure, country one aside (“Gay Gangsta”, “Rich Forever”, “LA LA Boom”)
Carly Cosgrove: See You in Chemistry
“Nickelodeon-themed emo” trio, none of whom are named Carly (there’s a Lucas, a Helen, and a Tyler); those of us too old to grok 2000s teen sitcom allusions can focus on the guitar, which combines mathy leads featuring bent notes and harmonics with the basic pleasure of densely strummed chords, and the way the lyrics meld gratuitous wordiness with candid descriptions of the emotional states experienced while being in a scene band (“Rue the Day”, “Really Big Shrimp”, “Munck”)
Back when you were turning Nouns up to 11, you might not have expected them to turn to ambient noodling and (avant) dinkiness, but you’d be sure that whatever they did, they’d do it with mindfulness and integrity; sure is a relief when they eventually (avant) rock out, though (“Rush to the Pond”, “Slow Motion Shadow”, “Violence”)
Tim Bernardes: Mil Coisas Invisíveis
Art songs, which I can live with, sung artily, which is a tougher sell—still, he has the precision to sell his multi-octave descents to those who like that kind of thing, and I appreciate his penchant for the odd spot of melodrama as a further distraction (“Fases”, “BB (Garupa de Moto Amarela)”, “A Balada de Tim Bernardes”)
“All Quiet on the Midwestern Front” is one of many great titles and several great lyrics which are often given all-quiet backing so you can hear that oh yeah, that one’s roasting Ted Cruz in cumin and a little achiote; otherwise, while the music isn’t as well-shaped as it was on February on Ice, sometimes it’s cathartic to let your producer go ham on his Mellotron while you rant about Abraham Lincoln’s Facebook (“Going to Cancun”, “All Quiet on the Midwestern Front”)
Arooj Aftab, Vijay Iyer, & Shahzad Ismaily: Love in Exile
“The journey requires emotional honesty, the dissolution of the ego, and being open to the best and the worst the universe has to offer,” but I can verify that as someone who’s emotionally evasive with an insoluble ego (and don’t get me started on the universe), uneventful beauty has its uses—which is not to say I wouldn’t prefer an Aftab-Swet Shop Boys joint (“Sajni”, “Haseen Thi”)
On the faster ones the orchestral arrangements bring things to life, on the slower ones the orchestral arrangements bog things down somewhat, and yeah you could’ve programmed a Semibot Life large language model to say that (“Maré”, “Eu Com Você”)
Viagra Boys: Cave World
Big dumb guitar-sax(-flute) ironists who, being from Stockholm, are pretty good at sonics and structure, decide to create an album satirizing right-wing populism, only at some points the “satire” is indistinguishable from reproduction of conspiracy rants; at least Jason Williamson’s contribution leaves no doubt as to his level of sarcasm (“Baby Criminal”, “Big Boy”)
Thanks for saving me (and apparently yourself) time. The Aftab-Iyer thing has paled a bit for me; I had been tempted a little but hadn't bit on the rest.