Power strangles the world with a steel chain, from an economy that alienates us to interpersonal relationships that eviscerate our personhood. Julie Christmas shatters this chokehold on her terrifying new record Ridiculous and Full of Blood, a wholesale rejection of complacency in all facets of life.

Requiem by The Nausea tells a coming of age story by capturing a moment of earth-shattering realization, a flaming sword that will hold us wailing at the gates of eden forever.

The Silhouette of Us by Kotoko Tanaka builds a psychedelic experience out of a series of stagnant plateaus, each one generally venturing deeper into off-center rhythms, difficult countermelodies, and alien instrumentation.

Inner Light by Mark Templeton represents the death knell of this appropriationist era, chopping and screwing a series of flashy, shimmery christian meditation cassette tapes from the 70s and 80s to point out the absurdity of using such sounds in organized worship.

The computer organizes sounds by similarity and compatibility, creating bizarre rhythms and dense overlays that feel unexpectedly pleasing despite their complexity.

As a deeply emotional slice of life expressed through club bangers, the long awaited release Brat by Charli XCX is the perfect album to get your limbs pumping wildly at a party with tears streaming down your face.

Previously shelved as a historical relic, this sound reemerges in absolutely beautiful form on the new album Para No Olvidarte by Clamor, an ode to those early pioneers of what was then called “emocore” such as Rites of Spring, Embrace, and Dag Nasty.

If you were happy with the Duster resurgence a couple years ago, you’ll be happy to hear that the indie scene still produces heartbreaking lo-fi slowcore in ample quantity and quality.

On the new record What We Don’t See by FINAL, long-running project of industrial innovator Justin Broadrick, a map is made of the empty spaces inside atoms, traversing the dark void from electron to nucleus. These expansive ambient soundscapes are inspired by the concept of an invisible world, one beyond surface-level perception, something that cannot be measured but can be felt in moments of profound stillness.

Pieces of art like the album A1 by Namjorh challenge this expectation of safety in the most subconscious, unsettling way, opening our minds to a mystery with only the darkest possible resolutions.

For JackDupon on their album TOUCAN, representing nature requires a rejection of consistent harmony, celebrating the beautiful world we inhabit with an inconsistent onslaught of jagged guitars and lumbering grooves.

As the scene rediscovers fast, riffy hardcore, a natural impulse takes over: to push the pedal to the floor and create the most desperate, angsty, kinetic sound possible.

However, the songs on Cleats by FIN intimately resonate all throughout the body without losing their pop structural sensibilities, constructing choruses that crawl across our skin and hooks that caress us tenderly.

Anastasia Coope gives these incomplete thoughts room to breathe and develop on her new record Darning Woman, a progressive folk album with a fixation on vocal layering and sonic space.

With his patently gritty vocals and a highly tuned-in 3-piece band, Joshua crafts energetic stories as infectious as they are technically impressive. His lyrics are always intensely personal, but with this album he shares stories about his Connecticut hometown and family that even we as close friends haven’t heard before.

If you’re done taking your recent breakup seriously, the new album Estranho Pra Vizinha by Os Fonsecas has everything you need to stay upbeat as you process your emotions. Starting with a sound that sits firmly on the whimsical side of post punk, a heavy dose of influence from Brazilian folk traditions provides the album with a charming, stumbling gait as it dances wildly from start to finish.

In their new album The 10000 Things: PRAISE SONGS for the iRiligious, Swift takes the role of mediator between the past and future, combining rich traditional spirituals and Work Songs with crisp and futuristic electronic elements to create a totally original sound.

Deep within In the Merry Month of May by Tony Conrad and Jennifer Walshe, American folk traditions still animate the improvised sonic chaos, but their manifestation as continuous, free-flowing panic attacks reveals the future that this culture was always moving towards.

Rather than suffer from otosclerosis, Bazelaire reads these sounds as a form of music made uniquely for them, with heartbeats serving as a compelling, organic rhythmic staple and tinnitus providing complex harmonies, gliding gracefully between tension and release.

The Leaves Are Falling / The Seeds Are Being Planted by Coral Cat takes heavy influence from Animal Collective’s cyclical structures and organic rhythms, massaging these deeply psychedelic elements into an aesthetic otherwise defined wholly by glitch pop and hyper pop.