Paste is the place to kick off each and every New Music Friday. We follow our regular roundups of the best new songs by highlighting the most compelling new records you need to hear. Find the best new albums of the week below, from priority picks to honorable mentions.
Amen Dunes: Death Jokes
It’s been six years since Amen Dunes—the project of Damon McMahon—last put out an album. In 2018, he unveiled the brilliant Freedom and, today, he’s given us Death Jokes. Lead single “Purple Land” sees him converging New Wave with alt-folk in a gloss that builds up slowly but never fully explodes like you expect it to—save for a sublime uptick in percussion. “Boys” again revels in the alt-rock that has defined much of Amen Dunes’ lifespan, but the brilliance is in the lyrics across the album—as McMahon tangles himself up in webs of what-ifs, quick-wit and conversational wanderings. But McMahon would never settle for just that, throwing in some vocal distortions and electronic underscores that heightens every inch of Death Jokes. He leaves ample space for listeners to decode meanings from each song, all while performing a bed of sonics that are non-negotiable in their vibrancy. Death Jokes is a welcome and exciting return for Amen Dunes. I’m happy McMahon is back and giving us all 14 songs to get stoked on. —Matt Mitchell
Amy O: Mirror, Reflect
On Mirror, Reflect, Indiana-based singer-songwriter Amy O explores multi-dimensional, dense soundscapes that are as kinetic and familiar as they are complex and awing. “Reveal,” “Sediment” and “Almost Fall” are terrific rock cuts that flirt with dream-pop and post-punk, as if Amy O is as much a descendent of Cindy Wilson as she is Frankie Cosmos. “Superbloom” alone is worth the entry into Mirror, Reflect, as it emerges from the gates like your standard indie-rock tune, only to slow down and sprawl out a minute-and-a-half in—stripping the guitars back to a quick stripe of electronics, only to pick the riffs back up again and settle into a lush convergence of both intervals. “Superbloom” is all about things worth doing, like going to an estate sale, taking pictures in front of Joni Mitchell’s Laurel Canyon mansion, eating pistachio ice cream on Sunset Boulevard and learning how to yo-yo. Amy O’s storytelling is worth digging into here, and lines like “Don’t wanna go home, though I really like LA / If I was younger, maybe someday” and “I just wanna be with you” snap the track’s romantic, cityscape pastorals back into place. If you can believe it, all of Mirror, Reflect embraces this exact ambition and warmth. —MM
Clementine Was Right: Tell Yourself You’re Going Home
Clementine Was Right’s latest album, Tell Yourself You’re Going Home, is their best, but it’s also a venerable collage of everything great about rock ‘n’ roll. There’s a lot of heavy Americana, some emo undertones, even a glow of indie-folk—sometimes all at once in the same song. 30 musicians are credited with performing on the album, which might seem like a lot if you aren’t familiar with Clementine Was Right’s rotating live cast—and having that kind of ensemble at their disposal helps make the band even more dimensional than Young’s shepherding, impassioned, siren vocal already does. As quickly as “Coca Cola Vigil” will make you weep over folks you’ve never met, “Takes Tall Walks” will have you standing up straight and calling your parents to tell them you love them. That’s the dynamic of Clementine Was Right, as Young and Davis—both literary poets at some time or another in their lives—have a chemistry together on the page that, then, transcends into a full-band lilt of brilliance. Few working bands can claim that kind of magic. —MM [Read our full feature]
Dehd: Poetry
Like “Mood Ring” there are quite a few songs on Poetry about big-time crushes. “Pure Gold” finds Kempf having feelings for a girl friend for the first time over country-western guitar like that of Beck’s “Loser” era, minus the trip-hop. The chorus—“Easy, breezy, ooo ya we laugh so freely”—while catchy and certainly evocative of new romantic intrigue, is not the most elevated writing they’ve ever done. “So Good” similarly finds Emily Kempf on the precipice of falling in love without using any over effusive language: “Watching you through dark shades, you’re the one I think I want ya / Oh I’ve been so good.” Basically she’s saying “Gimme!” As previously mentioned, it’s not that Dehd has ever claimed or tried to be explicitly lavish: They make feel good music. But even when they get monosyllabic, like on Blue Skies’ “Bop” it works when it appears self-aware—when it’s so on the nose your face is burning with delight.
After nine years together, Dehd seem to be more sure than ever as to who they are—both individually and as a band. They’ve refined their sound, cleaned the lines and (purposeful) smudges underneath their eyes. But, they have still remained true to their calling card and brave—and talented—enough to try new things. So while Poetry might not be an avid Dehd-head’s favorite album, I have a feeling it will attract a wider audience. It’s a relatable album, too, one that, for better or for worse, is easily digestible. In its simplest form, Poetry aims to figure out the healthiest way to love, in all its conditions: platonic, romantic, self. I mean really, what song isn’t about love? Hopefully Poetry’s accessibility means more people going to their shows, i.e. giving them money. Because a Dehd live show—woo boy, that’s a whole ‘nother article. Let’s just say, like Poetry, you won’t want to miss it. —Sam Small [Read our full review]
Kings of Leon: Can We Please Have Fun
After their initial come-up amid the early 2000s indie rock scene—and infamous characterization as the “Southern Strokes”—they popped out the aforementioned “Sex on Fire” and a handful of other adult radio hits and were promptly slapped with a big red “sellout” label. They’ve still been cranking out a steady supply of melodic southern rock ever since, finding more success in the U.K. than at home, but anyone who isn’t a fan—i.e., anyone who doesn’t have a built-in appreciation for their off-kilter lyrics and Caleb Followill’s distinct caterwauling—probably interpreted this trajectory as a slow nosedive. But on Can We Please Have Fun, those goofy lyrics that have so often doomed Kings of Leon to middling critic reviews are a crucial reason why this album floats down to Earth instead of landing with a thud.
On “Mustang,” the clamorous lead single, Caleb Followill inquires to no one in particular, “Are you a mustang or a kitty? / What are you all about?” before observing in the third verse, “I saw ‘em operating on the kid downstairs / I could not be bothered to pretend to care.” After a hard look at the lyric sheet, you could safely interpret the song along the same lines as Wilco’s “Love Is Everywhere”—both a modern-day warning to not be fooled by reactionary unity and a call to celebrate the little jubilees all around—but let’s be honest: It’s ultimately nonsensical. And that’s not just OK—it’s part of Kings of Leon’s DNA. If you’re looking for tidy metaphors, you’ve got the wrong band. If it’s a brew of briny bass lines and funky dumb melodies that you seek, however, you’re seated at the right bar. Perhaps these tracks aren’t revelatory, but they’re worth reveling in. —Ellen Johnson [Read our full review]
Shannon and The Clams: The Moon Is In The Wrong Place
The Moon Is In The Wrong Place opens with “The Vow,” a Nancy Sinatra-style ballad that perfectly sets the tone for the entire bittersweet LP. Defined by sweeping declarations of love, it’s a song that is simultaneously devastating when one considers the context: Shannon Shaw wrote it to surprise Haener on their wedding day. “I hated the idea of him never getting to hear it,” Shaw explains. “What do you do with this depressing song that never got to have its life?” Equal parts hopeful and tragic, “The Vow” is a fitting introduction that provides a glimpse into the yin and yang of remembering bygone good times—a mantra that encapsulates the album and Shannon and The Clams’ catalog altogether. “Oh So Close, Yet So Far,” one of the project’s standouts, is an earth-shattering testament to love’s everlasting glow. Characterized by uptempo soundscapes that fall somewhere between Paul Anka’s “Put Your Head on My Shoulder” and the Arctic Monkeys’ “She’s Thunderstorms,” the track listens like a classic 1950s love song dipped in West Coast garage rock.
When Shaw sings, “You are the constellations / You are the breeze / You are the birds / You are the trees” against the backdrop of the song’s rosy guitar-driven instrumental, you can hear the depth of her love—and you can feel the utter anguish of her loss, too. Dotted with gut punch one-liners masked amidst upbeat vocals (“The people mistake you for somebody who’s doing alright”), “What You’re Missing,” another of the project’s high points, perfectly demonstrates that duality. “Real or Magic,” meanwhile, depicts the ghosts of grieving with heartbreaking accuracy. “Woke up from another terrible night, bad dreams working overtime / But then I looked into his beautiful eyes, you were there and you were bathed in light,” Shaw sings sweetly before coming to: “Was it real or was it magic?” —Elizabeth Braaten [Read our full review]
Vicky Farewell: Give a Damn
While Vicky Farewell’s 2022 debut, Sweet Company, flew criminally under the radar, despite songs like “Are We OK?” and “Get Me” being such inescapable, candy-coated pop gems, her latest LP, Give a Damn, should soar high. With momentum kicked off by lead single “Tern Me On,” Farewell’s work is as sugary and dreamy as ever. Like nearly all of the work she creates, Give a Damn flaunts melodies that stick with you and worm their way right into the sweet spots of your ears. The simplicity of songs like “Textbook” and “Love Ya Like Me” is rivaled by its own sublime, bulletproof, overarching soundscape. Farewell channels ’70s soul and the liquid rhythms of that decade’s funk hits, but not in an overpowering way. A record like Give a Damn succeeds because of its restraint and groove, boasting a finely-measured catchiness that makes her the coolest artist on Mac DeMarco’s label roster. You can listen to an album like this 20 times in a row and never grow tired of it. —MM
Yaya Bey: Ten Fold
With her new album Ten Fold, Yaya Bey kicks into a new groove: freedom. And not just any kind of freedom—she rests in a freedom of knowing when to let go when the world around you is constantly changing. Bey is ever-evolving. Ten Fold, sounds like Bey’s most liberating music to date. It’s a 16-track thesis on the essence of survival. In an Instagram post about the album, Bey described it as a “recording of the year I lost the things I thought I could not live without and the proof that I did indeed survive… and thrive.” Bey, who is always making music ( she’s already halfway done with her next album) started making Ten Fold in January 2023. “Crying Through My Teeth” was the first song she made for the LP; the track, the album’s opener, is a soothing jazz balm that sounds like something you’d hear from the most popular artist at an open mic. It’s just that poetic, and Bey introduces listeners to an artist who uses humor to cope with her struggles (“Do you want to hear a joke / See I got all this money and I’m still fuckin’ broke”). —DeAsia Paige [Read our full feature]
youbet: Way To Be
youbet’s newest album, Way To Be, is out today via Sub Pop’s sister label Hardly Art, and Nick Llobet has socked an absolute dinger on this project. Llobet, who fronts the Brooklyn-based band, ushered in their label debut with “Carsick”—a wondrous, half-pensive, half-explosive single that gnawed at your soul. And likewise, the entire album is vivid, colorful and brimming with small rewards—be it the slight, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it guitar riffs lingering in the background next to some synth twinkles, or the restless drum patterns arriving like a skeleton beneath a gorgeous outro solo. On songs like “Nurture,” “Seeds of Evil” and “Peel,” youbet fashion intimate, mystifying, soundscapes—all warmed by Llobet’s raspy vocal that lands somewhere in-between Janis Joplin, Beck and Cindy Lee. A line I keep returning to: “Show me an end I can feel, I don’t leave ‘cause I want it for me,” they sing on “Carsick.” “Sell me a loss I can dream, I don’t leave ‘cause I do it for me.” As far as label debuts go, Way To Be is one of best releases in 2024 so far. —MM
Other Notable New Album Releases This Week: A.G. Cook: Britpop; Arab Strap: I’m totally fine with it 👍 don’t give a fuck anymore 👍; How to Dress Well: I Am Toward You; I. Jordan: I Am Jordan; Jim White & Marisa Anderson: Swallowtail; Knocked Loose: You Won’t Go Before You’re Supposed To; Mary Lattimore & Walt McClements: Rain on the Road; Pokey LaFarge: Rhumba Country; Rainbow Kitten Surprise: Love Hate Music Box