The 30 Best Debut Albums of 2023

2023 was a banner year for debut albums. I’ve been grateful to discover so many new artists, all of them putting out introductory records that, in many ways, are just as good as what the seasoned vets were putting out this year, too. We’ve been keeping a close eye on the brightest up-and-coming acts through our Best of What’s Next series, but there were countless artists we weren’t able to cover these last 11 months who are making some of the most ambitious, unbelievable and unforgettable work around.

For this list, we are not considering artists who’ve undergone stage name changes. Our focus is on albums from brand new bands, artists striking out on their own solo, shot-out-of-a-cannon supergroups and everything in between. All of these entries are terrific, and we can’t stop singing their praises. So, without further ado, here are the 30 best debut albums of 2023. —Matt Mitchell, Music Editor

30. Mali Velasquez: I’m Green

The debut album from Nashville singer/songwriter Mali Velasquez, I’m Green, is a beautiful, triumphant first affair. Filled with songs written as odes to her mother, the material is intimate and cosmic and uniquely tethered to longtime connections, grief and old wounds. Songs like “Tore” and “Medicine” are dense mementos for the people we’ve lost and the people we’ve yet to meet. “In late October, when daughter Maria comes and she’s sitting on the edge of the hospital bed that you’ll leave us on,” Velasquez sings on “Bobby.” “And when it’s all over, will you forget what I’ve said? Whatever memorial is carved over Amy’s head.” The record is moving, visceral and generous, full of devastating stories that will transport you back to familiar places through sparse instrumentation and gorgeous vignettes of stunning folk-pop. —Matt Mitchell [Read our full review]

29. Overmono: Good Lies

Good Lies, the debut album from Welsh duo Tom and Ed Russell—aka Overmono—is one of the best electronic albums across the board. The project is roaring with color, glitches and sampling. It’s a dance record that is relentless in beauty and limitless in scope, a true triumph that—to be honest—doesn’t sound much like a debut at all. The Russells plug symmetrical synthesizers and drum machines into vivid places on songs like the title track, “Is U” and “So U Kno.” It becomes quickly obvious that Tom and Ed are perfectly in-sync with each other and with the ins and outs of the UK club scene. The work across these 13 songs is extraordinary, sublime and hypnotic. I dare anyone to tap into a song like “Cold Blooded” and not become obsessed with the cosmic turns of Good Lies. The Russell siblings have been down this road before—countless times—yet, as Overmono, they have ambitiously chosen boldness. —Matt Mitchell

28. Hannah Jadagu: Aperture

To be direct in our communication with others is often a misunderstood approach. When we deliver sharp, necessary truths and leave dead air to hold the space that follows, it’s perceived as being rude or abrupt, but both parts of that interaction serve their own purpose: If the spoken statement cuts down to the bone, all of the unspoken emotion which prompted its delivery hangs in the surrounding silence. In singer/songwriter Hannah Jadagu’s case, she fills that silence with layers of MIDI instruments and echoing guitar melodies, as if she’s aware of how her swift and punishing lyrical turns need to be softened by noise that will express the teary-eyed motivation behind it. It’s in the riff which bolsters the damning shock of repeating “I know what you did” over and over again. It’s in the beat looping beneath the confession of “I don’t wanna work this out.” It’s in the keyboard line layered over the finality of “Am I supposed to say I don’t care? / ‘Cause I’ll turn my back / Now you’re faced with that.” That last line appears at the beginning of “Warning Sign,” the third single from Jadagu’s debut album, Aperture. If the sucker punch of a lyric is her shoving you back, the soundscapes it’s wrapped up in contain the universe of feelings you both might have in response to that action but don’t know how to voice. It’s the way your eyes water involuntarily in the aftermath. On Aperture, you hear an artist staking her claim, going through the first of many steps in an ongoing evolution. In sharing her collection of magnified, bittersweet goodbyes, Jadagu unlocks an interior world worth making a racket about. Hopefully, the next step is as monumental and moving as the sound she creates. —Elise Soutar [Read our full Best of What’s Next feature]

27. Memorytown: It Takes Forever

Memorytown is the project of Gladie guitarist Matt Schimelfenig, who’s worked on records with everyone from Modern Baseball to Spirit of the Beehive to Tigers Jaw. Their newest LP, It Take Forever, doesn’t tap into the emo and fuzzy alt-rock you’d expect, given Schimelfenig’s resume. Instead, their work with multi-instrumentalist Jeff Pretzel is that of gooey folk-pop and jangly indie rock that is as effortlessly catchy as it is fresh and exciting. Songs like “The Moon Is Hell” and “Sugar in Your Cup” have been earworms for me since my first listen, though tracks like “Crystal Metal” and “It Takes Forever” are delightful gems that live on opposite sides of the loudness spectrum, the former taking a solemn, sublime approach to balladry and the latter shredding beneath a wall of heavy distortion and droning, hypnotic vocals from Schimelfenig. It Takes Forever falls somewhere between Hovvdy and illuminati hotties. That’s a balance I’ll never turn away from. —Matt Mitchell

26. PinkPantheress: Heaven knows

Heaven knows is a continuation of the break-beat, two-step, sample-heavy pop that PinkPantheress is known for—but with a bigger budget and a broader ambition. On her 2021 mixtape to hell with it, you can hear each individual component: the drum-n-bass beat, the keyboards that sound like they’re from an iMac booting up, PinkPantheress’s careful topline. But Heaven knows has more intricate songwriting and a wider scope. She reckons with a cruel lover on the emo-influenced “Ophelia.” “True romance” finds her crushing on an unattainable rockstar. PinkPantheress insists that she’s more than just an online hodge-podge collagist; she’s a songwriter and evocateur. Frankly, no one sounds quite like PinkPantheress, and she relishes in her unique style and killer taste across Heaven knows. Organ, guitar and big-room synths blur like watercolor across “Another life” until the Nigerian rapper Rema shows up. “Nice to meet you” hops between a DnB, a tabla beat and Jersey club patterns. R&B-in-the-club artist Kelela floats over “Bury me.” Pantheress’s if-it-fits-it-ships approach is not new for her, but it’s a joy to hear her build on her own style with momentous confidence. —Andy Steiner [Read our full review]

25. Grian Chatten: Chaos For The Fly

The debut solo album from the Fontaines D.C. frontman, Chaos For The Fly is a brilliant, honest effort by Grian Chatten. Rather than feed into the biting arrangements that make Fontaines D.C. so blistering and raw, Chatten taps into the lighter side of his own grit. “Last Time Every Time Forever” is a subtle acoustic tune wrapped in digital backbeats, reverb and heavenly harmonies. “Fairlies” is an uptempo folk carving with jazz energy, while “Salt Throwers Off a Truck” is a strumming odyssey filled out with a buoyant spine of crooning strings. Chatten is miles away from what he and his bandmates did on Skinty Fia last year, but that’s what makes Chaos For The Fly so great. It’s a fresh, gutsy and mature first chapter for the Irish singer/songwriter that’s sure to become a bedrock of European folklore. —Matt Mitchell

24. Romy: Mid Air

Few dance albums in 2023 grabbed me quite like Romy’s Mid Air. The xx singer’s ode and celebration of her queer club days arrives in the shape of a debut project that pays swift and enchanting gratitude to the dance-pop of the last 30 years. Harkening back to a time when pop music was loved “without cynicism or irony,” there’s a deft, tangible bliss at every turn on Mid Air. From the opening track “Loveher,” it’s clear that Romy is working circles around the rest of her contemporaries. While Mid Air sings and pulses like the greatest club albums that came before it, there’s something so beautifully original about every installment. “The Sea” and “Strong”—the latter a collaboration with Fred again..—are two of the best dance songs of 2023, and Romy is our steadfast, stratospheric captain. Her work obliterates what we know or want from electronica, and Mid Air is the type of solo debut that does one thing elegantly: It promises that Romy’s stardom is still growing. —Matt Mitchell

23. Decisive Pink: Ticket to Fame

An amusing and instructive moment happens about eight seconds into “Potato Tomato,” the fifth track on Decisive Pink’s debut album Ticket To Fame. After a series of tinny beats, the beginning of an odd bass line and a couple electronic squiggles, one of the project’s principals—either American singer-songwriter (and former Dirty Projector) Angel Deradoorian or Russian pop experimentalist Kate NV, presumably—lets out a genuinely startled-sounding “whoa,” as if a button they just pushed made a particularly strange or unexpected sound. The feelings embedded within that exclamation–surprise, delight, frivolity, a sense of possibility—encapsulate exactly what makes Ticket To Fame such an engaging and enjoyable listen. Here, we have an opportunity to hear two top-shelf artists come together and explore a sound that sits comfortably between them, free from expectation and abuzz with spontaneous creativity. Decisive Pink’s debut is a dancing fountain of colorful tones, a wistful rocket ride through pixelated zones, an extravagant peacock’s plumage of electro-pop and a guided tour of moods and textures achievable in synth music. It’s also a wonderful first product of Angel Deradoorian and Kate NV’s creative union. Let’s hope there’s more where it came from. —Ben Salmon [Read our full review]

22. Lucinda Chua: YIAN

London cellist and composer Lucinda Chua’s debut album YIAN is, in no short terms, breathtaking. The work is, at once, brilliant and beautiful, as Chua weaves in and out of vocal musings and string and piano arrangements. She navigates Chinese diaspora, her presence within in-between spaces and the connections between homes, bodies, futures and histories. Tracks like “Echo” and “Something Other Than Years” will stop you in your tracks, as Chua’s delicate approach to world-building never sprawls or over-extends. YIAN is tender, breathless and full of haunting unresolve. Violins puncture atmospheric soundscapes; pianos ensconce Chua’s vocals ever so precisely. It’s a marvel to listen to again and again. —Matt Mitchell

21. André 3000: New Blue Sun

The last decade has found André 3000 assuming the role as hit-making guest performer, as he has featured on tracks by everyone from Frank Ocean to Drake to Beyoncé. We know what the 48-year-old can do behind a microphone, but we don’t know that much about his construction game. Until now. New Blue Sun is not the debut LP you’d expect from 1/2 of the greatest hip-hop duo of all time, and that’s part of what makes it so exciting. The album is entirely instrumental and each composition is centered around woodwinds. André called the work “therapeutic,” and he has since explained that he’s not rapping anymore because he doesn’t believe that he has much to say right now. Folks have criticized that comment, explaining that many middle-aged rappers are still putting out work with good, meaningful commentary. But it’s easy to look at André’s decision to put out a flute album and scoff at his choice. How dare he not drop any more bars? Well, he’s already climbed the mountain and gifted us a lifetime of essential albums. What New Blue Sun does is showcase just how deep André’s pocket goes, and it greatly speaks to where he’s at not just as a performer, but as a human being. This new venture is a celebratory one. At eight tracks totaling over an hour in length, it’s clear that André holds no interest in curbing to the wants of his own fan base—and that’s how it oughta be. New Blue Sun is a grand achievement carried out by an artist who’s already acquired copious amounts of those. It’s a blessing to watch André 3000 work, no matter what lane he’s doing it from. —Matt Mitchell [Read our full review]

20. boygenius: the record

The first EP from boygenius—the supergroup composed of three of the greatest millennial rock singers: Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers and Lucy Dacus—felt raw in an almost accidental way, like we were peeking into a quiet evening among friends through a door left ajar. the record travels to a similar space emotionally, but everything about it feels more curated: the tracklist, the sonic mood, and the sharing of the mic (and pen—all three artists are credited as songwriters on every song). Boygenius’ collaboration is harmonious in more ways than one, and the record shows they belong among the ranks of the greatest American supergroups. For every bar of lo-fi folk or pop music on the record, there’s a rock ’n’ roll outburst to match. In the fashion of Bridgers’ “I Know The End” (and a seemingly endless stream of indie rock songs since then), both “$20” and “Satanist” feature guttural screams. “Anti-Curse” is another great, loud moment. Baker initially takes the lead, but then a little glimpse of each artist comes into focus: Dacus’ trembling guitars, Bridgers’ cool soprano against the backdrop, and Baker’s warm-blooded words. Their three voices together are magic, they know this, and best of all, they seem to just really enjoy making music together as much as we enjoy listening to it. Baker, Bridgers and Dacus are nothing if not effective communicators, but it’s clear the most important dialogue is between each other. —Ellen Johnson [Read our full review]

19. Debby Friday: GOOD LUCK

Debby Friday knows how to have fun. Whether she’s enticing you to party or embracing her “red-hot libido,” the Toronto-based maker of electro-punk and hip hop wants to transform you the way she’s been transformed in the night. A celebrated DJ before embracing production, Friday fell hard for the boundlessness of Canadian nightlife at a young age, greatly preferring the freedom it offered over the strictures of her home life. A smattering of personal problems threatened to derail her nightlife career, but Friday recognized these as a call. She redirected her energies, teaching herself production, studied filmmaking and embraced the world of the mystical (astrology remains a favorite). Now, for her debut full-length on Sub Pop, GOOD LUCK, the trials of the past and the beauty of the stars come together in a striking, sensual, brilliant record. Whether it’s the grinding punk of “WHAT A MAN” or the thumping beats of “I GOT IT,” GOOD LUCK plays in the dark with expertise. Her tracks are eerie at times, hot at others, often playing in the sandboxes of industrial, hip hop, and dance, much like you might hear at the club. Friday’s voice can get muted, but at other times she places her voice front and center—distorted and unfamiliar on “SAFE,” falsetto and smooth on “SO HARD TO TELL.” GOOD LUCK is a record that doesn’t quit and shows Debby Friday’s imminent promise to be the next best thing in indie pop and dance. —Devon Chodzin

18. Shalom: Sublimation

Shalom’s debut record is very good and very emotionally naked. The 13 songs are familiar, but only sonically. They’re informed by her influences, like Car Seat Headrest and Soccer Mommy, but the lyrics are immense and personal, almost to the point where you might accuse Shalom of oversharing. That’s what you get with her. Being engrossed in the ugly parts of life is something Shalom is really in love with, and it translates into her own songwriting. But Sublimation is this grand exercise of not giving in to fear. She puts her entire self out on the line, not afraid of articulating her life in ways that might make for an uncomfortable list. The lead single, “Happenstance,” is a giant “fuck you” to Shalom’s college roommate from freshman year. Her de force single “Soccer Mommy” arose from the ashes of a destructive 2018, where she found herself off of her meds and taking a lot of acid, and her getting her driver’s license in 2019. The tracks are clean, groovy and urgent. Her vocals are unmoved and glide atop Ryan Hemsworth’s production in a mix of grit and finesse. —Matt Mitchell [Read our full Best of What’s Next feature]

17. The Tubs: Dead Meat

London rock quartet The Tubs made one of the smartest rock albums of 2023, period. Not to mention, it was their debut album, too. Dead Meat is brash, relentless and catchy, pulling stems of post-punk, jangle-pop and stone-cold rock grooves. “That’s Fine” and “Sniveller” are two tracks I keep returning to 12 months after the album’s release. The work is downright maddening in how effortlessly punctuated it is, and The Tubs are most certainly on a mission to—through prismatic, ace guitar riffs—take us to places we haven’t been in a long, long time. Dead Meat is one of those debut albums that sticks with you purely because it sounds like a career triumph. To start off this hot from scratch, The Tubs are something else. —Matt Mitchell

16. Model/Actriz: Dogsbody

I dare you to find another act that more powerfully barreled into 2023 than Brooklyn, NY four-piece Model/Actriz did on their February debut LP Dogsbody. At just a minute into opening track “Donkey Show,” the drums kick in and ignite a fire that burns strong until the last note. For bassist Aaron Shapiro, the principle guiding the group’s manic debut was simple: “Everything is a drum.” And sure, Model/Actriz is a post-punk outfit, but they distinguish themselves from their peers through sheer groove. The album doesn’t just rock, it throbs, every beat moving you closer to the next climax. Cole Hayden’s queer bravado is dripping with sinister eroticism. Listening to Hayden’s throaty and sneering delivery, you oscillate between being turned on and being terrified. He deadpans about the sexual activity of blood-sucking insects on single “Mosquito,” singing “Come pluck me out come pluck me out… with a body count / higher than a mosquito.” The group certainly has a flair for the dramatic, and the whole thing turns out like some sort of twisted dance punk rock opera—though I don’t know if I could bear to watch its brilliant ugliness on a stage. —Madelyn Dawson

15. Militarie Gun: Life Under the Gun

Militarie Gun are for the restless. On their debut album, Life Under the Gun, the Los Angeles band let a single guitar chord ring out–and then they’re off to the races. There’s a snare drum hitting on every beat, frontman Ian Shelton’s shout-sung vocals and, eventually, chunky power chords within the first 30 seconds of “Do It Faster.” That restlessness is equally clear throughout Shelton’s lyrics: “I don’t care what you do, just do it faster” he sings on one of the most satisfying choruses of the year. It only takes those first 30 seconds of the opening song to know that the five-piece is coming out swinging. In the final seconds of “Life Under the Gun,” where a major-key hook comes crashing into the end of the record like a superb plot twist, it becomes clear that these are some of the most vital rock songs of the year. For a songwriter like Shelton–who thought he was nearly done with music only 3 years ago–Life Under the Gun is an absurdly strong debut, jumping between anchoring drum beats, jangly guitars and explosive choruses with ease. After playing straight hardcore, directing music videos and a plethora of other creative outlets, Shelton sounds firmly at home in Militarie Gun. —Ethan Beck [Read our full review]

14. Free Range: Practice

The debut album by Free Range—the project of Chicago-based singer-songwriter Sofia Jensen—feels like it’s always existed. “Want to Know,” one of Practice’s singles, exudes a familiarity based on Waxahatchee-esque acoustic guitars and muted drumming while obscuring a lyrical gut punch. By the time the song reveals a fuzzed out, country guitar lead and a strange, tight groove to wrap things up, the heartbreak becomes clear: “Don’t float back up without me / I don’t know how we’re supposed to talk.” Somewhere between the endless comfort of Wild Pink and the tight craftsmanship of those Adrianne Lenker/Buck Meek albums, Practice is an album that shows confidence from the first note. Beyond “Want to Know,” the rest of the record is just as exciting, from the campfire haziness of “All My Thoughts” and the double-tracked vocals on “Traveling Song” to the blurry pianos of “Keep In Time.” With Practice, Jensen takes the strengths of their inspirations (Elliot Smith, Scandinavian forests, David Foster Wallace) and applies them to devastatingly beautiful songs. —Ethan Beck

13. Holly Humberstone: Paint My Bedroom Black

Now 24 years old with two widely received EPs under her belt, Holly Humberstone offers a vivid and emotionally raw coming-of-age story on Paint My Bedroom Black, illustrating her journey from being an emerging artist to one of the most captivating alt-pop sensations among her generation. Within a carefully-crafted, dreamlike atmosphere, Humberstone’s lyricism captures experiences that are deeply personal yet unflinchingly honest. Though much of the album explores coming into her own power, Humberstone doesn’t turn away from exploring the darker sides of her mind. “Cocoon” carries an upbeat tone, even as it holds some rather depressing lyrics. It’s reminiscent of that feeling every teenage girl can resonate with—looking at yourself in the mirror, attempting to convince yourself that you’re truly happy while, on the inside, you’re holding back tears. “I’ve been paralyzed for more than a week / But don’t let it scare you / This is fairly routine,” Humberstone sings. “Now I’ve become a taxidermy version of myself / The laundry’s piling up / The plants are dying on the shelf.” Paint My Bedroom Black is as much a love letter as it is a nuanced exploration of self-growth and a discomfort with love that stems from insecurities and past relationships. The album follows much of the same pacing and sound throughout, with the lack of variety occasionally making it difficult to distinguish between songs. However, offerings like “Girl,” “Antichrist” and “Kissing in Swimming Pools” are distinct standout tracks. It’s clearly a liberating piece of work, and Humberstone’s honesty and alluring delivery is bound to resonate with listeners near and far. —Alyssa Goldberg [Read our full feature]

12. Mandy, Indiana: i’ve seen a way

The music of Mandy, Indiana is not for the faint of heart. The band’s intense output over the past three years merges the best of punk, industrial, dance and more into an alarming sonic soup. After self-releasing a handful of singles, the band unveiled their first EP … via Fire Talk in 2021, solidifying their hallmarks: French-language lyrics, thumping beats and gnawing guitars. At some moments frightening and, at others, alluring, Mandy, Indiana is insistent: We are going to make something that we are proud of—that we feel is urgent—and it’s not going to slide under the radar. That’s a good description of their long-awaited debut LP, I’ve Seen A Way. While … introduced a broader audience to the band’s vision and sound, I’ve Seen A Way is a deep-dive into the political motivations and instrumental approaches the band explores through their intense sound. Mandy, Indiana are plainly honest about their disaffection and fury. And the new album is an exercise in unconventional recording. Guitarist and producer Scott Fair embraced the challenge of recording drums in a dangerously damp Somerset cave. Eccentricities in sound and process are not simply points of pride for the band; they embrace the idiosyncrasies that emerge when recording on-location. What the four-piece produces under duress is as natural as it is weird. That’s the beauty of a group like Mandy, Indiana: It’s obvious that they’re comfortable in the extreme, as if to say “get in, the water’s fine” while lounging in a pool of lava. It’s fun to wrap your mind around. —Devon Chodzin [Read our full feature]

11. Daneshevskaya: Long Is The Tunnel

Long Is The Tunnel begins fully submerged. Rain is the first sound on the album’s opening track, “Challenger Deep,” the drops falling to announce the coming of a gentle fingerpicking. Next comes Anna Beckerman’s voice, an understated captivation that stuns with its soft strength. She sings “Will you wait for me / Where there is no later on? / Will you wait for me at the end, the end?,” drawing out each word, pausing between phrases—her voice arriving wrapped in silk but sung with desperation. There is a heaviness to her vocal, something substantive to grasp onto despite her lilting melancholia. She reaches her hand up through the water’s surface, begging you to reach out and pull her from her drowning. Laced with distortion and supple synth notes, “Big Bird” aches through bursting percussion and Beckerman’s airy singing that thins out into a beautiful, angelic falsetto. “The biggest bird I’ve ever seen,” she intones. “I don’t know what the reason was. I can’t tell a dove from the biggest bird I’ve ever seen.” It’s an earworm melody that rises and falls and glitters, culminating in a field recording of birds flocking to some unknown destination. Long Is The Tunnel ends on a gentle, elusive and captivating note, as final track “Ice Pigeon” opens to twinkling piano keys—almost ironically so. It could soundtrack the opening to a music box of her own history but, firstly, it ties together the record’s surrealist charm—most emphatically when she sings “Everything that comes out of your mouth is gold / But it’s useless to me / Cause I know what it needs.” —Madelyn Dawson [Read our full feature]

10. Yaeji: With A Hammer

2023 was a great year for electronic music, and Yaeji’s With A Hammer might go down as one of the banner releases for the genre when it’s all said and done in two weeks. The New Yorker’s first album feels like an opus for how well-packed it is with an entire lifetime of color. Fusing tones of ambient, techno, synth-pop and jazz, it’s impossible to know where each of Yaeji’s turns are going to take you, but that’s the album’s brightest reward. “For Granted” and “I’ll Remember for Me, I’ll Remember for You” are perfect examples of just how good Yaeji is at contemplating genre while remaining melodic, untangled and euphoric. Featuring collaborations with Nourished by Time, Loraine James, K Wata and Enayet, With A Hammer is gorgeous and bountiful in its sonic liberation. Yaeji has no interest in standing still for even a second, and the result is an electronic, experimental and poppy triumph that’ll continue to challenge the zeitgeist far after 2023 concludes. —Matt Mitchell

9. superviolet: Infinite Spring

Steve Ciolek has seen America many times over, but he’s content with staying in Ohio for as long as the state will hold both him and his buds. When he was fronting the Sidekicks—the Buckeye State’s beloved coterie of emo, power-pop sharks—hubs like Chicago, Brooklyn and Philadelphia were always destinations, but never fantasies of a possible forever. Infinite Spring, Ciolek’s debut album as superviolet, has the blood and hope of Ohio roaring through its veins. Ciolek’s best pal and longtime collaborator Zac Little—the frontman of fellow-Buckeye folk-rock legends Saintseneca—played bass, theremin, wind harp, solo freak and “digital goober” on the album, while his Sidekicks co-CEO Climer took to the drums, shaker and tambourine. Ciolek’s wife Kosoma Jensen provides harmonies and clarinet, and her cat Fry—which Ciolek has become the father of by adoptive proxy—meows and chews on “Good Ghost.” Ciolek is one of the best songwriters we’ve got, and him having a relentless curiosity is what makes Infinite Spring so refreshingly brilliant and poetic. The album works through the existential crisis that comes with falling in love, outgrowing your own band and living with your own mortality—all while trying to figure out who you are in a post-pandemic world. —Matt Mitchell [Read our full feature]

8. Paris Texas: Mid Air

The second record titled Mid Air on this list, the debut LP from LA rap duo Paris Texas is unbelievably unforgettable. At 50 minutes in length, Louie Pastel and Felix establish themselves as one of the most primitive MC duos working right now. At every turn, Mid Air is catchy, stirring and brilliant. While Paris Texas have been kicking up dust since the late 2010s, this is their introduction to the rest of us. But OGs will remember just how good their debut EP I’ll Get My Revenge in Hell was about five years back. Mid Air infuses everything from alt-rock to punk to old school hip-hop in an amalgam of challenging, impulsive compositions. “BULLET MAN” and “Sean-Jared” remain standouts six months later, but the entirety of Mid Air is a masterclass from two musicians who are deftly uninterested in conforming to any boundaries laid out before them. The album is energetic, transparent and boastful all at once, as Louie and Felix have firmly made it certain that Paris Texas is a torch-carrying, heroic outfit. —Matt Mitchell

7. Blondshell: Blondshell

Most of Blondshell was written at the genesis of COVID in 2020, as a result of, as Blondshell puts it, “not a lot going on and having a lot of big feelings that I need to talk about.” She sings like a classically trained vocalist while injecting her charisma with the bravado of Courtney Love and the pop likability of Avril Lavigne. As a songwriter, she instills a complexity throughout the record that perfectly mirrors her own humanity. She is vulnerable, funny, painfully honest and doesn’t hide behind vague language. Her work is a true foil to that of folks who love metaphors. No two songs sound alike, yet Blondshell is not a collage of sub-genres. Instead, it’s Blondshell tinkering with her own renditions of sonic palettes previously mastered by the artists she got really stoked on during the pandemic, like Hole, Nirvana and Patti Smith. It’s indie pop fused with grunge, but it also, thoroughly, rebuffs getting lost among other ’90s alternative imitations. That’s all thanks, in most part, to Blondshell’s songwriting and compositional finesse, both of which allow her to attach a glaze of bubbly acoustic guitar and synths atop the heavy lyrical shit that might necessitate a litany of spell-binding distortion. Blondshell is a triumphant debut from the next indie superstar. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a project that’s more confessional, urgent or needed than this one. —Matt Mitchell [Read our full Best of What’s Next feature]

6. MSPAINT: Post-American

Raw emotion is at the heart of MSPAINT’s music—so much so that it practically explodes out of them. Their lyrics and album title, Post-American, refer to a post-apocalyptic world that’s succumbed to grave threats currently posed by capitalism, state violence, religion, misinformation and technology. Post-American suggests that it’s imperative to grasp just how horrific things are in order to make change, and to keep the beauty that power brokers rob from people at the front of one’s mind. Deedee’s stream-of-consciousness poetry is rather artful, mixing imagery from the natural world with seething political critiques, allowing listeners to interpret their tracks as both personal emotional awakenings and broader societal ones. But that doesn’t mean their political messages are subtle, as they spout lines like “Guillotine will decide who’s separated in classes” and “Burn all the flags and the symbols of man.” MSPAINT’s rabid synth-punk sounds like the future, as weirdo synths converge with blown-out basslines and emphatic, vein-popping vocals that fall somewhere between hip-hop MC and hardcore frontperson. Their moody melodies, left-field grooves, barreling energy and rumbling hiss place them somewhere at the intersection of dance-punk, post-punk, egg punk and industrial music, but their lack of guitars really throws a wrench in things. MSPAINT may not win over the hearts of every hardcore diehard, but Post-American is a vehement document of Hattiesburg, Miss., DIY and an invigorating call to prioritize love and justice in a time when virtually every part of society and culture encourages robotic mindlessness. And if nothing else, they’ll continue to turn heads when they unleash their oddball electro-punk dirges at a punk venue near you. —Lizzie Manno [Read our full feature]

5. Being Dead: When Horses Would Run

When Horses Would Run is a special record to behold. From the Link Ray guitar rumbles on opener “The Great American Picnic” to the closer “Oklahoma Nova Scotia”—which arrives like Neil Young and Daniel Johnston had a baby out of psychedelic wedlock—there is something on this album for everyone who presses play or shuffle. At 13 tracks, it’s all killer no filler. Even a short arrangement like “God vs. Bible,” which only contains two lines (If God owned the bible, he’d read it everyday) repeated three times, is lush and harmonious. Sandwiched somewhere in-between gospel music and Devo before Devo discovered synth-pop, Being Dead are cowboys getting their rocks off on mad-lib verses and drugged-out backdrops. There is discovery and curiosity at every turn, a swift detour from any of their rock ‘n’ roll contemporaries who fall into a lulling sonic familiarity with every new project. Being Dead expel all instances of psych-folk pretentiousness across this baker’s dozen of weirdo-concertos. When Horses Would Run is an authentic, dexterous, impressionable stroke of brilliance from three friends who can’t help but make awing music when in company with each other. In a past life, perhaps Gumball and Falcon Bitch met—as they like to joke—as chimney sweeps, shoemakers or acrobats, and that bond feels as mythical as it is touted to be. —Matt Mitchell [Read our full review]

4. Kara Jackson: Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love?

What the Chicago-based interdisciplinary writer and musician Kara Jackson accomplishes on her debut LP Why Does The Earth Give Us People To Love is not “raw,” at least not in the sense that the writing is unrefined or off-the-cuff. Instead, that distinction comes through how the listener is made to feel listening to Jackson’s cosmic country jams. Lines like “Some people take lives to be recognized” are delivered with nonchalance, and the way she belts “don’t you bother me” over swirling harp notes elicits chills. Jackson is communicating her message with precise orchestration for optimal impact. As a listener, you may feel exposed, maybe even singled out. Jackson starts the album with “recognized,” a lo-fi exercise contemplating what people do for validation and why. As she and her piano arpeggiate, she raises the stakes. It contrasts with the lush “no fun/party,” where her theatrical voice balances with a racing guitar and reclining strings. She reckons with men who won’t rise to the occasion and take that out on her and, as much as she laments the loss of companionship, she remembers that the other person is just as liable to miss her, too. Across the album, Jackson’s expert guitar work and lyricism reveals an extensive archive of her relationships with peers, partners and more who she’s entrusted with her love. Many of those people are men who’ve mishandled that love. When Jackson is solo, she is a force. With her friends’ help, the result is divine. —Devon Chodzin [Read our full review]

3. Dean Johnson: Nothing For Me, Please

Hailing from Washington State, folk troubadour Dean Johnson has been around for almost two decades. Today, his long-awaited debut LP, Nothing For Me, Please finally arrives. Conjuring the best pieces of John Prine, Townes Van Zandt and Blaze Foley, Nothing For Me, Please is not your prototypical country record. Instead, it’s a widely spun tapestry of colored lands where curious eyes and hearts roam. Songs like “Faraway Skies” and “True Love” are immediate bedrocks of contemporary folk playlists. And, at the center of it all, remains Johnson’s awing vocal, which careens through octaves into a breathtaking falsetto you can’t help but fall in love with. Each song tells a complete tale, and Johnson’s debut album Nothing For Me, Please is without filler. At a concise nine chapters, the album rings in like a portrait of his life thus far, which makes sense, given that the oldest entry in the tracklist was written as long ago as 2004. Standout song “Shouldn’t Say Mine” is a pure acoustic bliss with soft rock percussion that perfectly compliments Johnson’s voice. The song could be in communion with anything from Sweet Baby James-era James Taylor or anything Jim Croce put out in the Nixon years. As a high-pitched piano rings out, Johnson laments: “I held you too tight, my weakness it showed / I was in your way trying to get close / You’re after my world, a rolling stone / Alright, alright, I’ll leave you alone / Too much and not enough, close enough to tear each other up.” Johnson is no longer Seattle’s best-kept secret. The honest, warm storytelling on Nothing For Me, Please is sure to gain him a few more fans, and for good reason. —Matt Mitchell [Read our full review]

2. Nourished by Time: Erotic Probiotic 2

Describing anything as “DIY”—or, God forbid, “bedroom pop”—can conjure the sound of music made minimal by necessity, with its charm derived from its limitations. Though his full-length debut under the moniker Nourished by Time was entirely made in his parents’ basement in Baltimore, Marcus Brown’s blend of ‘90s R&B and ‘80s freestyle is so impressive because it appears to have arrived fully formed. For such a bare-bones operation, its fruits overwhelm. Planting himself at the midpoint between SWV and The Blue Nile, between heartbreak and life under late-stage capitalism, between dance floor bangers and deeply-felt pleas for understanding, Brown threads all of it together to create an idiosyncratic, well-crafted collection of songs that can’t help but attach themselves to you. The melancholic guitar fog of opener “Quantum Suicide” runs perfectly into the synth-driven bounce of “Shed That Fear” and “Daddy.” By the time he’s wringing your heart out with lines like “My prayer is for our clouds to collide / But I have to face the possibility that I’m wasting my time”—delivered in lush harmonic layers on “Rain Water Promise”—you’re ready to pivot with him wherever he aims Nourished by Time’s arrow next. Loving and losing are eternal themes for a reason, but in his isolation, Brown repurposes them into something strikingly original and frequently gorgeous. —Elise Soutar

1. Sofia Kourtesis: Madres

Sofia Kourtesis captures a warmth few of her contemporaries ever achieve. Arriving after a series of singles and EPs, Kourtesis’ first LP—Madres—finds the Peruvian producer working within storied traditions of deep house and the Berlin nightclub scene, while infusing those influences with a beating heart all her own, like a tender embrace in the heat of a crowded dance floor. Tracks like “How Music Makes You Feel Better” live on the miasma of emotions Kourtesis entangles at any turn, skittering house loops, airy vocal exhalations, and brief chops of soul singer howls. On “Moving Houses,” Kourtesis forgoes beats entirely for an ambient piece centered on decaying loops of her own voice, shedding her usual arsenal to even more intimate poignance. Though built through struggles and pain, Madres is a reciprocal gift from Sofia Kourtesis to the listener, a record that seeks to impart its personal comforts and catharsis onto those who take it into their hearts. —Natalie Marlin