Pitchfork: Best New Music

You only need to listen to a few seconds of Healing Is A Miracle to understand that Julianna Barwick’s albums have the same amount of thoughtfulness that you’d find in a monastery. This American from Louisiana, who’s now based in Los Angeles after a long stint in Brooklyn, lets this dreamlike atmosphere seep into everything she composes. Wide soundscapes, infinite layers, loops and repetitive patterns immersed in halos of echo and reverb swirl around her fascinating voice which possesses a similar grace to Liz Fraser’s from the Cocteau Twins, despite hardly resembling it. It’s like an ethereal, hypnotic, suspended music session. It’s hardly surprising that Barwick has worked with Sigur Rós, among others… Jónsi from the Icelandic band features on In Light. The Californian electronic musician Nosaj Thing (on Nod) and the harpist Mary Lattimore (on Oh, Memory) are the two other guests on this fourth album, which, like the previous records, is soaked in a half-New Age, half-ambient feel. Time is suspended. And so are we. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

The third album by the Haim sisters (Este, Alana and Danielle) is by far their best and most intimate. They skilfully mix a range of influences: pop, rock, R&B and even a hint of jazz through their use of brass, one example being the sax used on the opening track dedicated to their hometown Los Angeles (where they also criticise New York for its greyness…). This album comes out just at the right time, crowing a successful period that saw the three sisters headline the fourteenth Pitchfork Festival in Chicago in March 2019 alongside Robyn and the Isley Brothers. Danielle also featured on Vampire Weekend’s fourth album (Father of the Bride) and the Haim trio’s latest single appeared on October 30, 2019, announcing the album’s release (Now I’m In It). It was a song that seemed to be made for the mainstream, despite its lyrics that deal with depression, and was accompanied by a music video directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, the director of Boogie Nights and There Will Be Blood. Women in Music Pt. III is a truly endearing record that contains some beautiful moments such as the sunny Hallelujah or the bitter sweet Summer Girl that brings to mind the likes of Joni Mitchell and Fleetwood Mac, both artists that are adored by the Californian trio. © Yan Céh/Qobuz

Immediately contradicting the album's title, opener "I Contain Multitudes" finds Dylan doing his best Leonard Cohen: the lion in winter, growling with deceptively gentle gravitas over cinematic guitar—paying tribute to William Blake, Anne Frank, Indiana Jones and "them British bad boys the Rolling Stones." If it were to be the 79-year-old's last stand, it's a pretty damn great one. But he immediately springs to spirited life with "False Prophet," a no-frills dirty blues march. There are so many highlights: "My Own Version of You" is a laugh-out-loud "Frankenstein" tale set to a shadowy guitar prowl; the swooning "I've Made Up My Mind to Give Myself to You" borrows from doo-wop balladry. "I hope the gods go easy with me," Dylan croons on that track, and it's hard to shake the feeling that he's taking stock. But there's still so much to say. "Key West (Philosopher's Pilot)" finds the elder statesman chasing immortality along Route 1 for nine-and-a-half fully entertaining minutes, while closer "Murder Most Foul" stretches out for nearly 17, reliving the Kennedy assassination and incanting a phone book's worth of cultural-imprint references without wasting a second. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Phoebe Bridgers has said she's a huge Elliott Smith fan—the name Punisher is a reference to an overzealous admirer, and the title track is about her love of the late singer-songwriter. You can hear his influence all over the album: the heartbreaking pathways of "Savior Complex"; the melody that drops down when you expect ascension on "Moon Song." But while Smith's lyrics could be clever, Bridgers' wordplay is unique. "The doctor put her hands over my liver/ She told me my resentment's getting smaller," she sings on "Garden Song." Not that she needs to hide behind jokes: "I've been running around in circles, pretending to be myself/Why would somebody do this on purpose when they could do something else?" she asks on "Chinese Satellite," the quiet instruments of the verses eventually erupting as if to shadow her feelings. There are other shadows at play, too: a male harmony haunting her light-as-air vocals on "Garden Song" and the otherwise ethereal "Halloween," and the specter of her father—she's spoken of his substance-abuse issues—darkening the lyrics of "Kyoto" even as Mellotron and amiable '90s drums provide aural sunshine. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

Being behind bars has never stopped rappers from making music. But what Drakeo The Ruler (who has been incarcerated since 2018 on a murder charge) offers here, is quite out of the ordinary. From the Men’s Central Jail in Los Angeles, the Californian rapper had endless phone calls with his producer, JoogSZN, in which he rapped on top of instrumentals which JoogSZN had made him listen to in advance. And inevitably, his voice sounds like someone on the receiving end of a call, producing a rather unique and dark effect. Throughout the 19 tracks, Drakeo talks of fallen friends (R.I.P. Barney), prison (Social Media Can’t Help You) and the bleak tales that come along with it. With a very trap gang stand global aesthetic that occasionally develops elements of drill (Tell You The Truth), he manages to transform the obstacle of the telephone into an asset. On the other end of the line, JoogSZN places no effects on his voice so that the result is more street than ever, more pure. A success. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

In 2013, rapper El-P - the representative of independent New York rap (with Company Flow, then going solo and creating the label Definitive Jux) – joined up with Killer Mike, a solid street rapper from Atlanta who made a name for himself on OutKast’s debut album. Seven years and three albums later under the name Run The Jewels, the duo has not only become inseparable (and almost exclusive) but also an essential group on the contemporary rap scene. On RTJ4, the two forty-somethings continue to carry the torch for a noisy and rebellious rap inherited from Public Enemy. While the influence of the Bomb Squad, which was tangible even from their first productions in the mid-90s, is more present than ever, El-P stirs up his own sonic revolution and sets fire to all kinds of things by sampling the post-punk group Gang Of Four (the ground below), distinguishing himself over dancehall riddims (holy calamafuck, co-produced by Dave Sitek from TV On The Radio), recording Native American saxophonist Cochemea (a few words for the firing squad (radiation)) and bringing together big names as diverse as Pharrell Williams, Zack de La Rocha, Josh Homme, Mavis Staples and DJ Premier. Articulate and never overly wordy, the two rappers complement each other impressively in their timbres, their flows and their writing. El-P has retained from the golden age of indie rap a taste and talent for double entendres and witty punchlines, and Killer Mike, who in the civilian world has become one of the leading voices on the American left, alongside Bernie Sanders, manages the feat of putting social commentary back at the heart of rap. Being released in the midst of the public uprising in the United States following the death of George Floyd at the hands of the police, RTJ4 is like a real-time and inevitably icy autopsy of Trump's America. © Damien Besançon/Qobuz

At first, Mike Hadreas aka Perfume Genius was likened to Anonhi/Antony Hegarty (Antony & The Johnsons). But as the American released more and more albums, it soon became clear that the universe he was building with his music was far too complex for such a superficial comparison. In 2014, his album Too Bright (co-produced by Adrian Utley from Portishead) gave us a kaleidoscope of sounds that went from Suicide-style electro that was sombre and minimalist to exuberant grandiosity and stopped off on the way for a R.E.M-style ballad. Three years later, No Shape also reflected that same personal eclecticism and Bowie-like musical androgyny. Now, Perfume Genius says his latest album, Set My Heart On Fire Immediately was influenced by his collaborative dance project with choreographer Kate Wallich, admitting, “It was dance that blew up this separation between my work and the world”. This realisation led him to reconsider his writing, which he now bases more on everyday life and real people, with influences from a wide range of artists from Townes Van Zandt and Enya to The Cocteau Twins! The album itself is just as diverse as it alternates unexpectedly between Baroque-style ballads and instrumental segments and his vocal palette paints all the colours of the rainbow as he moves from an angelic falsetto in one track to a guttural groan in the next. The soundscape is further enriched by the cello, glockenspiel, Wurlitzer, saxophone and harmonium in this rather elusive but sumptuous album. © Max Dembo/Qobuz

Beck lent him his songwriting. Sufjan Stevens covered his songs. James Blake, Bon Iver, Flume and Andrew Bird invited him onto their albums. And Solange Knowles, St. Vincent and Erykah Badu hang out with him: Moses Sumney is a powerful and fascinating magnet. The futuristic soulman’s aura was confirmed in 2017 on his debut album Aromanticism, an impeccable work of lustful, intelligent R&B carried by a gospel-soaked voice and a strong yet troubled personality. Underscoring the duality of his daily life and his struggles with schizophrenia, Moses Sumney sees double with Græ. He has created this ambitious second album (released in two parts, three months apart) by dipping his brush into a wide-ranging palette: soul, pop, jazz, rock, R&B, folk. Even the title - neither black nor white - amplifies the feeling of being in-between...Now based in Asheville, North Carolina, the Californian (who lived in Accra, Ghana between the ages of 10 and 16) articulates ideas in two-headed sounds. His sexuality as his origins, his virility as his fragility, his falsetto as his hoarse voice, luxury as purity, acoustic guitar as synths, it’s all there. The first part is lyrical, grandiloquent and warm, bordering on baroque soul. The second is more peaceful and weightless. He flits from one thing to another with such ease that it’s never confusing or disorientating. As Sumney said in an interview, pop culture has made the patriarchy waver to the point that we forget masculinity is not necessarily a bad thing: Græ proves it in a whirlwind of eclecticism where his voice serves as a solid common thread. Like on Gagarin, where he revisits From Gagarins Point of View by E.S.T., the late Swedish jazz pianist Esbjörn Svensson’s trio. Or when he invites Jill Scott to sing (recite) the intro to jill/jack. James Blake and Daniel Lopatin a.k.a. Oneohtrix Point Never appear in this vast symphony, one so rich that you hear something new each time you listen. It would be too simplistic to consider Græ the album of Prince 2.0, since he feeds on a thousand sounds. In this grey area, Moses Sumney already has his own crown. And his reign has only just begun... © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Time, mercifully, has not softened Fiona Apple's edges. Her long-awaited fifth album is exciting, nervy and seemingly on the verge of collapse. Apple lets it bleed without running over the edge. On "I Want You to Love Me," her voice is Mama Cass strong; she holds notes to the point that they become something else. "Shameika" and "Cosmonauts" are sonic tornadoes, while the title track is madness with its rushed vocals, chanted chorus ("Fetch the bolt cutters/I've been in here too long"), percussive manic typing, and a barking dog. Apple's humor remains wickedly sharp. "Under The Table" is laugh out loud funny, about a dreaded dinner party: "Kick me under the table all you want, I won't shut up." Over a bed of baroque or even circus sideshow piano, she tries on Lizzo-worthy sass for "Rack of His" ("Check out that rack of his! / Look at that row of guitar necks"). Occasionally, it's all breathtaking: "For Her" snaps from playground chants fueled by #MeToo fury to a soaring swell of "Good morning! You raped me in the same bed your daughter was born in." As powerful as anything she's ever made. © Shelly Ridenour/Qobuz

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Elpadaro F. Thedford aka Jay Electronica aka the legend without an album! Without a real album, anyway. At 43, the legendary New Orleans producer who has crossed paths with the whole world of rap (Jay - Z, Nas, Kendrick Lamar, Mos Def, J. Cole, Mac Miller, J Dilla, Big Sean, Chance the Rapper, Talib Kweli, Vince Staples, Common, DJ Premier...) has decided to release the first album stamped with his illustrious nickname. His moniker could have even featured next to Jay-Z's, as he is an uncredited contributor to eight of the ten tracks on A Written Testimony! A heavyweight accomplice for a heavyweight record; but one with great finesse. An ultra-talented rapper who has cooked up a hearty mille-feuilles of mystical sounds and themes. Even if the general mood is often laid back, everything is thought out. It’s all calculated to the millimetre: from its ideas (including those of the Nation of Islam's controversial Louis Farrakhan whose voice features on the first track); to its values (nods to the hip-hop tradition as on Shiny Suit Theory which uses the same sample as Pete Rock & C. L. Smooth put in their I Got a Love); the choice of guest appearances (Travis Scott on The Blinding and The-Dream on Shiny Suit Theory); and its creative potential (amazing trip-experimental ambient on Ezekiel's Wheel sampling Evensong by Robert Fripp and Brian Eno). Erykah Badu's ex clicked very well with Jay-Z (who sometimes takes the helm here) to create an opus that sounds almost more early 2000s than 2020... © Marc Zisman / Qobuz

Rising from the darkness of the Canadian rave scene at the start of the 2010s, Grimes quickly made her way up the ladder of success. Her synthetic hit Vanessa allowed her to amass a fanbase that was obsessed with her post-teenage voice and elfish look, and at the end of the 2010s, Pitchfork named Oblivion (written following a sexual assault and taken from her 2012 album Vision) the second-best song of the entire decade. It’s this kind of distinction that reminds us that she is an artist that knows exactly how to transcribe emotions into songs, and not just the girlfriend of multi-billionaire Elon Musk. Miss Anthropocene sees Grimes morph into a climate supervillain, a ‘goddess of plastic’ that’s here to take some of the heat off climate change. Musically, Grimes has not drastically changed, with a signature synth-pop sound that borrows from rock on My Name Is Dark, drum’n’bass on the excellent 4ÆM or trip-hop on So Heavy (I Fell Through the Earth), which reminds you of Massive Attack or Transglobal Underground. Well inspired, Grimes continues to hit the mark. © Smaël Bouaici/Qobuz