john michael vettese

The Afterglows - The Afterglows (Salinas)

This year, two guys from the house show scene who usually skew either punked-up (Sam Cook-Parrot, Radiator Hospital) or spaced-out (Mikey Cantor, The Goodbye Party) conspired to make sensitive, introverted existential acoustic pop in the vein of Simon & Garfunkel and Chris Bell. Beautiful.

The Afterglows by The Afterglows

Against Me - Shape Shift With Me (Total Treble)

One of the most important punk bands of our generation, Against Me! goes inward on their latest LP. Laura Jane Grace makes the personal political, as the saying goes, and her lyrics detail relationships, heartache and betrayal. It would skew seriously emo if it weren't for the pop hooks and raging riffs.

Anderson .Paak - Malibu (Steel Wool)

Sleek, stylish, soulful and sexy, this Cali rapper / singer / multi-instrumentalist positively shines on his latest. Its funky grooves meditate on lust while slipping into nostalgic flashbacks, socially conscious vignettes and interludes about finding God in the crushing waves of the west coast surf. Malibu is an album of its time and an album eternal.

Angel Olsen - My Woman (Jagjaguwar)

She's done this before. The mix of classic pop / rock songwriting with contemporary sass and emotional devastation is Angel Olsen's M.O., but on My Woman it's the best it's been. I'm hooked from the opening lyrics on "Intern" that are a wake up out of our carefully curated online personas and into reality: "it doesn't matter who you are or what you've done / Still gotta wake up and be someone."

ANOHNI - Hopelessness (Secretly Canadian)

There's no holding back here. The world is a dark, dreary pit of despair, and ANOHNI details its various ills in blunt, coarse detail, from warfare to global warming to predators and pandering politicians. There's an element of beauty, and admirable theatrical drama at points, but the most compelling moments on Hopelessness dabble in Scott Walker-esque cacophonous brutality. It's not a "fun" listen, but it's an important one.

A$AP Ferg - Always Strive and Prosper (RCA)

There's so much going on here, it's unreal. In the first ten minutes, you get an avant R&B freakout, a trap banger, a house jam that morphs into an EDM anthem and a slick slice of classic boom-bap. Maybe I'm impressed because I haven't dug hard into the A$AP Mob collective previously; my experiences seeing various affiliates in concert left me feeling that they leaned more musically homogenous. My wife Maureen suggested I give this record a listen, though, and homogeny is definitely not the case here: Always Strive and Prosper has solid variety and depth, and I love the mission statement from the get-go: "Be the voice of the people who couldn't make it out of the hood."

Balance and Composure - Light We Made (Vagrant)

These Doylestown dudes have been outgrowing their pop-punk scene roots for the past several years, but this record really boldly leaps into new territories that the crushing guitars and MBV atmospheres of their last record only hinted at. Skittish beats roll on loop like a more tasteful Incubus, wrapped gentle minimalist atmospheres and a remarkable sensitivity. Sidestepping to step it up.

Bellows - Fist & Palm (Double Double Whammy)

I walked into Union Transfer to see The Hotelier this summer, and caught the last 60 ecstatic seconds of the closing song by this opening band. Bright and blooming guitar, expressive violin, vocals and drums driving everything to a crescendo. My friend Rachel and I turned to each other all like "Who the hell were they?" I promptly bought the 2014 record that Bellows had at the merch table that night...but Fist & Palm, released later in the fall, is where it's at. Sufjan symphonies grounded in DIY sincerity.

Beyonce - Lemonade (Parkwood Entertainment)

When you're a pop star of near-universal media saturation, you can kind of do whatever. Beyonce would grab headlines and go platinum on the strength of she's Beyonce. The fact that she used her platform to make a record of such social and political importance as Lemonade, and that she spoke through music that was challenging and forward-thinking while also being unfuckingbelievably catchy, and further still that she kept it a remarkably-guarded secret until it dropped...just wow.

Big Thief - Masterpiece (Saddle Creek)

Adrianne Lenker's voice is the first thing that grabs you. Classic American country-soul, a bit tender and a bit desperate, but with a gravely punk rock sneer taking the piss out of objectifying duderock bros. As a band, Big Thief's music has a similar dichotomy: roaring and tight, teetering on the edge of collapse, then retreating to dark corners while lyrics trade off between sensitivity, sentimentality and surrealism.

Boogie - Thirst 48 Pt. 2 (self-released)

Rising Compton MC Boogie has been making a name for himself as a remarkably honest lyricist -- as self-deprecating as his is braggadocious, very attuned to his community and his world around him. On the sequel to his Thirst 48 mixtape, Boogie is clearly heartbroken, struggling with the rockier side of love, so this is a frank and inward-looking set. Lyrics talk about unreturned texts and emotional scorn, taking various angles on that point we all hit where the romance dies away and we need to discover if love remains. In Boogie's case, it does, it's just not easy.

David Bowie - Blackstar (Columbia)

There were several records reflecting on mortality in 2016, but the first and arguably the most powerful was David Bowie's Blackstar. Written and recorded while he was undergoing treatment for cancer, and released two days before he passed away, it was an incredible final act of artistic expression. To paraphrase a poignant retweet I saw back in January: "David Bowie looked death square in the eye and said to himself 'I can use this.'"

Danny Brown - Atrocity Exhibition (Warp)

Danny Brown's a funny guy, right? He's got that cartoon character flow and he raps about partying. Actually, it's more complicated than that if you've been paying attention. And the nuanced Atrocity Exhibition brings the underlying message to the forefront: partying, yeah, but unhappily. Depression sits underneath, self-doubt, self-worthlessness, uncertainty, out-of-step-ness with the world. This brilliantly honest record pulls back the curtain over bomb-ass beats that are goth af.

George Burton - The Truth of What I Am > The Narcissist (Inner Circle Music)

A pianist in the NYC jazz scene fifteen years running, George Burton released his debut record this year -- and astonishingly, his piano playing very much keeps out of the spotlight. Rather, Burton acts as his own rhythm section, a unifying center to showcase dynamic leads from Tim Warfield on sax, Terell Stafford on trumpet and more. Meditative moods, for real.

Car Seat Headrest - Teens of Denial (Matador)

The best indieduderock album of 2016 by what seems to be universal consensus, Teens of Denial is the perfect blend of jagged riff rock, catchy refrains and wittily literate lyrics by Will Toledo, from the fierce pop of "Fill In The Blank" to the Modern Lovers-ish "Destroyed By Hippie Powers" and the serpentine epic "Drunk Drivers / Killer Whales." Believe the hype.

Cardi B - Gangsta Bitch Music Vol. 1 (self-released)

I came across this badass Bronx MC thanks to my friend Lissa's recommendation on Facebook, and I'm glad I dug in. The beats are pretty much trap by the book, but flashy production isn't the point here. Belcalis “Cardi B” Almanzar is a commanding vocalist, a bold force to be reckoned with, and she gives no fucks what you think about her. The record is all messages of perseverance and self-determination, doing what you gotta do, not go just get by, but to thrive.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Skeleton Tree (Bad Seed Ltd.)

Though the death that colors this album (that of Cave's son Arthur) did not happen until after the songs were written and well on their way to being recorded, the impact is potent and poignant. The music is spacious and spectral, droning synthesizers and deconstructed minimalism, so much so that it's odd to think of this as a "band" record. On top of it all, Cave's half-sung / half-spoken free verse vocals, husky and pained as ever. A moving, beautiful document of loss, grief, love and hope.

Chance The Rapper - Coloring Book (self-released)

Chi-town king Chance is telling folks that his next release is going to be his "debut album," meaning he still considers the sees Coloring Book as residing in the mixtape zone. That, to me, is preposterous. I mean, certainly enough words have been written dissecting that mixtape-versus-album delineation, and maybe Chance sees the line as a project's commercially availability. But whatever the case, Coloring Book is a freaking thing of beauty and a work of art, an album (yes, album) that celebrates life and moves forward with an optimistic step while also mourning division and tragedy that's existed -- well, for centuries, really -- but has felt particularly heightened in recent years. It's an album that celebrates faith and gives praise to higher powers but does so in a non-exclusionary way. It's an album that brings the party on a massive scale. It's an album of healing. The most essential listening of 2016.

Childish Gambino - Awaken My Love (Glassnote)

He could have stuck to rap and it would have been fine - he's charismatic and awesome at it. But for the third album under the Childish Gambino banner, Donald Glover went full-on psychedelic funk odyssey, Sly and the Family Stone, Parliament, Prince, you name it - visionary shit.

Clique - Burden Piece (Topshelf)

I really like what I said about this band when they recorded a Key Studio Session over the summer: "There are many people in the world who struggle with doubt and disaffection, who yearn for connection but prefer to be left alone. And for those people, there’s Clique." The band's sophomore LP Burden Piece refines its slow punk approach: minute to two-minute songs that move very tentatively and uneasily. Singers and guitarists P.J. Carroll and Brandon Shipp unpack their neuroses, whether its a meditation on medication ("Useage") or existential quandaries over what their creative effort mean in the end ("Worth"). Looking at it purely as a candid document of feelings that most of us experience, they means quite a bit.

Leonard Cohen - You Want It Darker (Columbia)

That part right in the middle of the opening title track, when the gauzey synthesizer and minimalist beat drop out and the eternally sighing singer-poet whispers "I'm ready, my lord." Holy shit yo. Where Bowie explored mortality and looming death with nervy trepidation, Cohen discovers peace and beauty and love at the end of it all amid tip-top, suave instrumental arrangements, not bringing in funereal melancholy until the final act.

Common - Black America Again (Def Jam)

I love that Common performed a bunch of songs from this record in the White House, in front of a shelf of books about history and law and government. How he gestured to the Constitution when he rapped the lyric "slavery's still alive, check amendment 13." In terms of discourse and social consciousness, this album is incredibly important, but the music is just as much a part of it -- sleek soul grooves and West Coast Get Down style vibrations, crafting a beautiful package for a statement of urgency.

Curtis Cooper - Laughing In Line (self-released)

A West Philly guitar slinger with the look of a skateboard kid and the sound of Seth Avett covering Elliott Smith at a breakneck basement show clip. Curtis Cooper is an incredible instrumentalist, whether he's solo acoustic or with his quasi spacey jazz punk trio, and his voice is a thing of beauty, but backing all that up is a collection of solid songs worth exploring.

coping skills - Relatable Web Content (self-released)

If you're in school these days studying journalism, design, art or anything that involves putting stuff online that you want people to click on, you probably get the concept of "relatable web content" shoved down your throat. (Fuck, I'm not even in school, and I'm sick of hearing about #content.) Shoutouts then to Philly songwriters Rachel Dispenza and Lauren DeLucca for repurposing the ridiculous mantra as a wonderfully meta album title. The Philly two-piece makes lively and observational indiepop songs with a generous helping of feminism and humor -- similar in that sense to Seattle's Childbirth, but with more drum loops. The set celebrates Ben Gibbard (in a song title at least), takes down the college industrial complex, throws shade at the manic pixie dream girl mythos and generally gives an enjoyable and singalongable dose of real talk. You'll relate.

Cub Sport - This Is Our Vice (Nettwerk)

A collection of pop perfection from a young Brisbane, Australia five-piece. This Is Our Vice moves beyond the romance and playful innocence of the band's initial EPs and into the more complex world of let-downs and abandonment, betrayal and hopeless devotion, but all set to impeccably arrangements that straddle the worlds of 90s R&B and modern rock.

Lucy Dacus - No Burden (EggHunt)

Like the last two records by Angel Olsen (who I'm sure she's bored of being compared to, sorry Lucy), No Burden blends a timeless and sorta vaguely rootsy voice with gritty guitars, punchy pop-rock and songs of yearning and desire. This RVA singer/songwriter impresses on her debut, and even moreso onstage, when she and her band dip, dive and roar -- quiet enough that you would have been able to hear the proverbial pindrop at Johnny Brenda's this summer were it not for the chatty jackasses at the bar, loud enough that the those same jackasses shut their faces and listened.

Liz De Lise - Liz De Lise (self-released)

A Philly area newcomer with a background in jazzy pop stepped it up in a seriously heady, imaginative rock and roll record this year. Guitar dietyship that draws equally from Neil Young and St. Vincent make for a balance of experimentation and vivid songwriting.

Mal Devisa - Kiid (self-released)

With a voice that bends in all kinds of unexpected and captivating directions, versatile Boston singer-songwriter Deja Carr released a record this year that has surprises at every turn. Her debut LP as Mal Devisa, Kiid, tackles poised Nina Simone-style jazz, deep Massive Attack vibes, brash punk and fierce hiphop over 11 songs, not to mention gorgeous piano ballads that absolutely slay. A remarkable introduction to an exciting artist.

Kiid by Mal Devisa

DJ Shadow - The Mountain Will Fall (Mass Appeal Records)

Oakland icon DJ Shadow takes his sweet time between releases, but he tends to make them worth the wait. His latest draws from just about all the styles he's touched on in his two-decade career, impressionistic turntabilist cut-ups to soundtracky soundscapes. Putting the impossibly raw Run The Jewels collab "Nobody Speak" at the top of the set positions the bar redonkulously high, and it doesn't entirely maintain that momentum, but The Mountain Will Fall nevertheless slides off nicely into haunting ambient zones and tasty left-of-center beat tapestries that only Shadow can deliver.

Dr. Dog - Abandoned Mansion (self-released)

The second of two albums released by long-running Philly rock dudes Dr. Dog was the less expected (the promo push went to the winter's The Psychedelic Swamp, which was beautiful but familiar via its genesis in a high-profile local stage production the previous fall) and ultimately was the more satisfying. Rather than reviving and reshaping old songs, Abandoned Mansion collects a terrific set of new ones (or new-ish anyway, it was recorded in late 2014 at their Clifton Heights studio) and released them with relatively little fanfare around Thanksgiving as a benefit for the Southern Poverty Law Center. The set skews mellow, meaning you may require a listen or two to get up to speed -- there are no high-energy "I Only Wear Blue" or "Broken Heart" grooves to hook you in here -- but Scott McMicken and Toby Leaman's songwriting is nevertheless in impressive shape after fifteen years, still finding new angles into their tripped out roots rock vibe and probably sounding the most like The Band that they have in a decade. "Both Sides of the Line" and "Peace of Mind" from the former, and "Ladada" and the title track from the latter, are winners all around, and the tidy 40-minute runtime will have you going back for second as soon as the first round is done.

Abandoned Mansion by Dr. Dog

Mikey Erg - Tentative Decisions (Don Giovanni)

No fuss, no muss. Just a flawless set of hooky power-pop punk rock from Mikey Erg, who feels like he's been kicking around the east coast scene forever. He does The Replacements less overtly (and thus more genuinely) than Beach Slang, and matches clever lyrics with his crunchy riffage. Crank up the volume.

Field Mouse - Episodic (TopShelf)

Rachel Browne and her bandmates have leaned in that ever-popular hazy gazey direction in their past work, and it's suited them well. But on Episodic, Field Mouse goes full pop, and this is unequivocally a good thing. Browne has one of the most gripping voices in indie rock at the moment, and should not be muted with reverb; her harmonies with her sister Zoë are divine. And the band's enveloping, ecstatic hooks and dynamic arrangements recall anyone from Sonic Youth to that dog. to Rilo Kiley in the best way. Plus all those catchy lyrics about isolation and insecurity? So real.

Free Cake for Every Creature - Talking Quietly of Anything With You (Double Double Whammy)

There's a lot of sweetness at play on this album, both figurative -- sanguine melodies, playful arrangements -- and literal -- lyrics about eating chocolate bars and birthday cake. But staying carefree and positive is sort of a mantra for Philly newcomers Free Cake For Every Creature, epitomized in their song "All You've Gotta Be When You're 23 Is Yourself." When we reach adulthood, life turns to shit, big time. Keeping that spark of innocence and optimism and wide-eyed wonder alive is essential.

Fresh Cut Orchestra - Mind Behind Closed Eyes (Ropeadope)

In the past, this Philly ensemble has explored the realms of conceptual composing and wordless storytelling in their take on 21st century jazz. But saying something truly new requires one to be a good listener, something the title of FCO's latest seems to allude to. On Mind Behind Closed Eyes, the band effortlessly emulates sound from across the last 100 years, from bebop to space jazz to mambo and more.

Gallant - Ology (Civil Music)

As far as the ever-growing bumper crop of Soundcloud artists goes, Gallant is one that definitely crosses over into real-world, flesh-and-blood appeal. Dude is a remarkable singer, let's get that on the table to begin with -- falsetto highs, resonant lows, a shimmering dynamic range. It mixes well with the phasing synthesizers and dreamlike electroR&B backings he plays to. But his most winning asset is his charisma and ability to connect and engage when he's performing. Maybe I say this because I saw him play on a small stage in a literal forest in Delaware during Firefly and not a more impersonal nightclub-ish venue. But it seems that if you can rock a crowd that focused, you can do anything.

Robert Glasper Experiment - ArtScience (Blue Note)

Robert Glasper's ArtScience pulls from a similar span of sonic variety that Fresh Cut Orchestra dabbled in this year. But unlike that project, which is more of a collective of voices, this Experiment is pretty much under the purview of a single visionary who reveres Herbie-esque grooves alongside Earth, Wind and Fire funk and the space odysseys of Miles, Daft Punk style cool in equal measure as proggy ELO uncool. A lot of moving pieces that fit together in unexpected ways.

Guerilla Toss - Eraser Stargazer (DFA)

One evening back in March, I was working in the studio when my awesome friend Kelsey who does promo for various gigs around town hit me up asking if I wanted to go to see this band called Guerilla Toss at Underground Arts. I wasn't familiar but was intrigued and figured sure, what the hell, sounds fun. A few hours later, it was one of those "MIND. BLOWN." scenarios. GT has been around for a few years doing cosmic synthesizer psychedelia, and has a ridiculously dynamic frontwoman in Kassie Carlson. Her approach seems rooted the Yeah Yeah Yeahs / Liars school of howling free-association poetry, and like both those artists, she is skilled at breaking down the wall between band and crowd. Her bandmates, meanwhile, deliver cut-open-head-spill-out-brain sonic oddities that range from searing skronk to spacey Can grooves to shit that reminds me of The Fall (admittedly an equally inscrutable comparison). I thought oh, this is great but it's probably just a live thing, but Eraser Stargazer captures it in album format remarkably well. Their PhilaMOCA gig this summer was equally badass. Late to the party, somewhat, but glad I made it.

Steve Gunn - Eyes on the Lines (Matador Records)

This Lansdowne-bred guitar virtuoso doesn't reinvent the wheel, he just keeps making a better and better wheel. Eyes on the Lines is his finest collection of spectral, wandering, highway-minded beat jams, and seeing him grow from local curiosity to somebody garnering international acclaim is a treat.

Hardwork Movement - Good Problems (Self-Released)

These nine Philadelphians hit the scene in a massive way in 2016, playing gigs and packing venues, mixing classic 808 hip-hop with Roots style full band brass jams and generally being positive party rockers. Going back to the way they opened the year, Good Problems is a solid foot to start on. Some songs are dreamy and romantic, others are all determination and motivation

Good Problems by Hardwork Movement

The Head and The Heart - Signs of Light (Warner Brothers)

People give these Seattle coffeeshop arena rockers shit for being too earnest. I say their earnestness is exactly why I love them. While Signs of Light embraces the most universal sorts of sentimentality, it's undeniable that the record connects melodically as well as lyrically -- it's simply a engrossing collection of feels that's ultimately uplifting, a Fleetwood Mac for the 21st century. Like David Dye once said to me, you sometimes have to ask yourself of popular musicians, are they just trying to make money or do they mean it? I have no doubt that The Head and The Heart means it.

Hello Shark - Delicate (Orindal)

The ultimate in understated. This quiet collection of sad songs by singer and songwriter Lincoln Halloran and his cast of collaborators is a gem. Halloran's lived in Massachusetts, Vermont and now Philly -- and he does beautiful melancholic introspection in the vein of Ida, Iron & Wine and Jackson Browne, a dude he named a lovely song after. This collection is ideal for listening while wrapped up in a heavy blanket on a cold day.

Helms Alee - Stillicide (Sargent House)

As usual, I didn't listen to nearly enough metal this year. But one record that I'm glad found its way into rotation is the fourth from Portland power trio Helms Alee. The band mixes drone soundscapes and sludge riffage with unique vocal juxtapositions; Hozoji Margullis delivers biting pop melodies while she destroys on drums, guitarist Ben Verellen counterposes them with eviscerating howls. Hard-hitting and ethereal, a post-apocalyptic dream, and their live show is maximally gripping.

Kristin Hersh - Wyatt at the Coyote Palace (Omnibus)

Give Kristin Hersh a blank space and she'll fill it with art. Typically, this awesome lady of the pre-alternative era keeps her solo material on the contemplative side, saving the harder and heavier moments for her work with Throwing Muses and 50 Ft. Wave. But this double LP finds Hersh stretching out with lowkey ghost ballads up against jagged bruisers, and recurring squeals of dissonant noise tie the opus together, theme and variation style.

Hiss Golden Messenger - Heart Like A Leveev (Merge)

People keep saying that veteran Durham songwriter M.C. Taylor is finally coming into his own, and then he releases another record that levels up his whole game. Where 2014's Lateness of Dancers dug into full-tilt New Orleans boogie, this year's Heart Like A Levee - his sixth LP - is majestic, spectral and soulful folk, indebted no doubt to Nashvillian Dylan but also gospel music, Mojave 3, delta blues and the Grateful Dead.

Derrick Hodge - The Second (Blue Note)

This Philadelphia jazz bassist has his hand in three other releases on this list -- he produced George Burton's The Truth Of What I Am > The Narcissist and held down the low end on Common's Black America Again and Robert Glasper's ArtScience. Taking center stage on his second solo LP, Hodge shows how the bass can be best used as a lead instrument: smooth, sleek and lean, full of character and cool. He's no wankerous Jaco Pastorious motherfucker, and is all the better for it. He's also not an ultra-hip, persona-driven Thundercat either; mad respect to Thundercat, of course, but it's good to know that Hodge is simply Hodge, a guy with a gracious sense of groove and a taste for exciting composition.

The Hotelier - Goodness (Tiny Engines)

For one thing, Zack Shaw is arguably the best singer in the so-called emo revival. His voice is pitch-perfect, sensitive and reflective while also being powerful and confident, guiding this remarkable nine-song / four-interlude album across beautiful melodies and howling catharsis. "Player Piano" is a jam of jams -- when Shaw screams "make me feel alive" on "Soft Animal," it's impossible to be unmoved. I wonder how many more ears Goodness might have reached had the album art not been a beautiful photo of nudist senior citizens. I think it's punk af that The Hotelier went with that image as their album cover regardless.

Hurry - Guided Meditation (Lame-O)

Some day, decades hence, this Philly trio's records will be talked about in hushed and reverent tones by whoever the Peter Buck of 2047 winds up being. There will be reissues and reunion shows; Byron Coley will give an interview from his nursing home for an independent documentary on them. Pretty sure Matt Scottoline and the band are chill with that fate. Guided Meditation is a record of beautiful, aching power pop perfection in the vein of Big Star's Radio City; soaring, longing, and an incredibly sincere contrast to their sassy onstage/online personas.

Jim James - Eternally Even (ATO)

Had to stop at several points when I first heard this record and look at the playlist, just to remind myself I still had Jim James on. The My Morning Jacket frontman's last solo album still sounded, on many levels, like a poppy MMJ outing. Eternally Even, though, is totally new territory for James -- lots of spaced-out Air / Can / Stereolab simmering grooves blended with his vocals taking a deep Lou Rawls / Bobby Womack dive, "The World's Smiling Now" being the epitome of all that. Also gotta love the semi-prescient lyric "if you don't vote it's on you, not me." Sigh.

Japanese Breakfast - Psychopomp (Yellow K)

There's been a lot of talk about how Michelle Zauner drew on personal tragedy for this reflective record. Hell, I've mentioned it in just about every blurb I've written about it. It's an important part of Japanese Breakfast's story, but let's not overlook the fact that Psychopomp is a fucking beautiful collection of sound and song. "In Heaven" is both the numbness of loss as well as the serenity of eternal love; "Jane Cum" is just powerful and moving; "Everybody Wants To Love You" is funny and fun. It's the full range of emotions that go along with grief, and exactly what Zauner needs to be doing with her creative energy.

Joyce Manor - Cody (Epitaph)

Cali punk rock dudes doing what they do the best way they know how to do it -- a little bit Weezer, a little bit Get Up Kids. Cody is the hookiest the band's ever been, the most thoughtful their lyrics have come across, the most polished their production has sounded. Joyce Manor has spent a few years in my listening periphery, nice to finally have an album that's kept me coming back for more.

Kamaiyah - A Good Night In The Ghetto (self-released)

Got turned on to this mixtape out of the burgeoning Oakland rap scene early this year because FACT put "How Does It Feel" on a best jams of the week roundup. It's snappy 808s, spacious minimalism and OMG THE HOOK caught me in a big way. That vibe holds up over the course of the course of a full project that's equal parts about partying, pride, feminism and love.

Alicia Keys - HERE (RCA)

I was instantly sold when Alicia dropped the unstoppable single "In Common," her first new music in four years, back in the spring. That song somehow did not make it onto the LP she had in store, but that's fine -- HERE is a powerful record that's a showcase of everything she does best. Powerful piano blending with raps and suave R&B melodies and deep rock and soul grooves, romance and socially-conscious observations, endless love for her hometown of NYC. Yes, yes, some of the callbacks call back a bit too hard -- the Lauryn vibes on "More Than We Know" are a bit on the nose. Whatever though, this is incredible life affirming music that we need more of.

Kvelertak - Nattesferd (Roadrunner)

The other metal record from this year that I got super into, thanks to a tip from WMMR's Sara when we were chatting at the Mastodon concert. Punishing riffs and rhythms and intricate, highly technical playing on the one hand, but a good portion of Nattesferd on the other hand is very informed by classic rock melodies and structures to add some levity to the brutality. In lesser hands, it could come off cheesy and forced, but these Norwegian badasses totally pull it off.

Kendrick Lamar - untiled unmastered. (Aftermath Entertainment)

So the whole conceit of untitled unmastered. is that, after releasing what was nearly universally acclaimed as the best album of 2015, Kendrick quietly dropped this collection of odds and ends, unfinished songs and outtakes. So unfussy that they're not properly titled, just labeled with the date of the recording. And of course it's every bit as impressive as a proper Kendrick project, a fully realized album unto itself. "Untitled 3" and "Untitled 6" are my jams.

King Azaz - Spiritus Mundi (self-released)

Drummer Sarah Schardt and singer-guitarist Christo Johnson met in North Carolina eight years ago, transplanted more recently to Philadelphia and are currently destroying in the queer punk two-piece King Azaz. To lift a phrase from my friend Neal, this is would appeal to people who think Bleach is Nirvana's best album - riffs, drums, minor keys, aggression - but there's also a level of Fugazi / Dischord style socially charged catharsis. Plus they have a song about Centralia, always a sure-fire way to get my attention.

Spiritus Mundi by King Azaz

Michael Kiwaniuka - Love & Hate (Interscope)

This summer, I got hugely into the Netflix series The Get Down -- a big part of the appeal, obviously, being the amazingly curated funk / soul / disco soundtrack setting the mood for this group of young musicians on the hustle. Some of it was vintage 70s stuff, sure, others were modern originals paying homage to a golden era -- much of it drawing from the latest album by British singer-songwriter Michael Kiwaniuka, a fact I didn't realize until much later. First and foremost, I knew Love & Hate for "Black Man In A White World," a soulful earworm of significant social importance. It's also a song my boss would, for a period, walk around the office singing at the top of his lungs, for days on end (and not necessarily on key). I'm glad I got beyond the overexposure to the single and dug into the rest of the album, because it's a set of majestic moods and pensive thoughts that, though not always overtly political, distills channels the feelings and frustrations of 2016, which seem not dissimilar to those of some forty years ago.

Amos Lee - Spirit (Republic)

Six albums in, and soulful Philly singer-songwriter Amos Lee has hit his stride. He's no longer working in the shadow of former labelmate Norah Jones, or stuck in the coffeeshop / Starbucks niche. His Mountains of Sorrow, Rivers of Song album broke him out of the pleasant pop rut, and an impressive and acclaimed Live at Red Rocks release broke him through to even more listeners. On a new major label home (with a new major label budget), Lee radiates confidence and excitement on Spirit, unafraid to try new things like dabbling in electropop on "Vaporize" or copping to some serious SchoolBoy Q love. But mostly, he just writes great songs - "Running Out Of Time" being a wonderful, timeless specimen. Keep on keeping on, dude.

Lydia Loveless - Real (Bloodshot)

Columbus, Ohio rootsy rock and roller Lydia Loveless returned this year with another knockout set. Real digs into emotive meditations on yearning ("Longer"), narratives about the shits that men can be ("Midwestern Guys") and incredible infusions of pop and disco ("Heaven"). Loveless' role in the music landscape is peculiar; she's too smart for country, too twangy for indie rock. Thankfully she just keeps being her and keeps being awesome.

LVL Up - Return to Love (Sub Pop)

Guitar rock jams from this Brooklyn-via-Purchase four piece that split the difference between Nada Surf hooks and Neutral Milk Hotel fuzz pop blowouts. LVL Up has been kicking around the scene for a while, and runs a respectable label (Double Double Whammy); after an uneven scuzzy lo-fi first record and a punked-up sophomore outing, this is the best showcase of their music so far.

Lushlife - Ritualize (Western Vinyl)

It took main Lushlife man Raj Haldar and his production collaborators in CSLSX four years to make this record a reality, but it's a damn fine showing. Spectral trancey beats and beds mix with Haldar's instantly likeable flow -- a barrage of nostalgic recollections and art-minded pop culture references -- that work as well in easily digestible pop bites as they do in stretched-out epics (the four-movement "Toynbee Suite").

Mannequin Pussy - Romantic (Tiny Engines)

This album's a burner. Eleven songs in eighteen minutes, mad riffs and racing drums and Marisa Dabice's awesome vocal dynamism. The title track meditates on objectification in sobs and screams, "Emotional High" is a playful ode to friendship and fidelity. "Pledge" is about personal power while also taking a sidewise swipe at patriotism because fuck that noise right now. A much more clean and clear recording affair than the blistering fuzz of their last record Gypsy Pervert, which ruled but was sometimes too lo-fi for its own good. Not that this is all studio magic'd out - it's still punk as fuck, even with acoustic guitars - just a solid audio artifact of one of the best live bands playing right now.

Mick Jenkins - The Healing Component (Cinematic)

You're going to notice a recurring theme as this list plays on, and that's how Chicago is the best hip-hop city in America right now. Beyond Chance, the amazing Mick Jenkins put out his first full-length project this year. The south side MC already impressed with his mixtape The Water(s) and his EP Wave[s], and this delivers on the promise of both. The title is a play on THC, the active ingredient in weed, but Jenkins uses it to discuss and dissect love in rhymes and interludes a la The Mis-Education of Lauryn Hill. "Spread Love" and "Angles" do that super well, but there are also socially conscious perspectives in the mix, and socially critical ones as well -- see "Drowning," which makes a hook out of dying words that became a protest chant, "I can't breathe."

Nick Millevoi - Desertion (Shhpuma)

This guitarist has been collaborating with like-minded spaced out string-benders in Philly's psych rock and jazz scenes for a couple years now. His latest outing tackles dusty, windswept instrumental expanses in the vein of Crazy Horse, as well as Neil Young's Dead Man score. Ideal for long drives, deep thoughts and hallucinogens.

Mitski - Puberty 2 (Dead Oceans)

I've been living with this album for most of the year, and there's still so much to discover. Beyond the guitar rawk power trio tones and Mitski Miyawaki's controlled, commanding vocals, the lyrical content makes Puberty 2 an album that will uplift you as easily as it will destroy you. It's an album where emotion is personified into what sounds like a lousy Tinder date amid horns and rumbling percussion ("Happy") and reflections on a highly personal experience have the unexpected resonance of a universal anthem ("Your Best American Girl"). It's an album where loss and desperation crystalize into unbelievable energy ("My Body's Made of Crushed Little Stars," "A Loving Feeling") and sardonic musings on infatuation absolutely devastate ("Crack Baby"). I still don't have a complete grasp on all of Puberty 2's twists and turns, and I'm sure I'm wrong about at least half of it, but I do know this: it speaks to me in a big way. Also it should have played a bigger part in her setlists on tour this year. Harumph.

Modern Baseball - Holy Ghost (Run For Cover)

After crafting the generation-defining You're Gonna Miss It All, beloved Philly pop-punk four-piece MoBo buckled up and kept moving along the same path their generation was following. They solved some problems (you'll find significantly less fixation on pounding beers and stumbling home from parties this time around) and discovered many, many more problems, once the specter of Mid-Twenties Existential Dread reared its head. Jake Ewald lost a beloved family member while falling in love anew, and wrote his half of the album about that; Brendan Lukens struggled with depression and addiction and poured that into his half. The resulting Holy Ghost is a remarkably candid, brutally honest and highly specific portrait of these two talented songwriters that connects even when this isn't exactly your life that they're singing about.

Moor Mother - Fetish Bones (Don Giovanni)

I've seen Philly's Camae Defstar perform in various configurations over the past decade, from the party-rocking hip-hop duo Mighty Paradocs to the mix of ambient soundscapes and spoken word that launched Moor Mother Goddess a few years back. Abbreviated to Moor Mother and working with revered Jersey label Don Giovanni, Defstar's project released this amazing collection that is equal parts poetry, art installation sound design, punk rock, industrial brutalism, gospel and beyond. Smarter critics than I have delved deep into Fetish Bones' myriad influences in the realms of Sun Ra and science fiction, and I'll point you to them to get the best read. What I will say is that Camae's vivid voice of outrage against injustice isn't purely fixated on the now, as much as this album has heightened relevance in the year of #BlackLivesMatter. It digs far into the past to examine how we got where we are, and its gaze toward the future is neither one of hope nor pessimism as much as it is of poise and preparedness.

John Morrison - Southwest Psychedelphia (Deadverse)

A DJ and beatmaker (and music journalist who, disclosure, writes for the blog I edit) put together an incredible record assembling sounds, samples and textures documenting a year in Philly, season by season. Southwest Psychedelphia opens with bright optimism and sonic positivity for the spring, segues through a nervy hot summer into an ominous autumn and a pensive, reflective winter. Futuristic and remarkably of the now, party rocking and socially conscious, an honest narrative with relatively few words. The Sister Trudy referencing "Creation Theme" is a total joy.

Mount Moriah - How To Dance (Merge)

Durham, NC rock and roll four piece shine on their latest, a set of roaring Crazy Horse guitars and abstract lyrical vignettes tied together by the commanding voice of Heather McEntire. The rootsy thing is very much there, but not overdone, kind of in the same way as Lucy Dacus -- it's just good songs in a classic style.

Mumblr - The Never Ending Get Down (Fleeting Youth)

This propulsive Philly punk four-piece just keeps getting tighter and tighter. Nick Morrison's voice is gripping and his fuzzed-out guitar jams with his bandmates are catchy ("Microwave"), jittery-askew and self-deprecating ("Ugly Ugly Tiny Tiny") and the searing epic "Domingo" stretches out for seven minutes -- live, it shuts down shows massively.

noname - telefone (self-released)

I'm going to have to really hold back here, otherwise I'll just go on and on about how wonderful this record (EP? Mixtape? Who cares, remarkable collection of songs) is. Another Chicago MC and associate of Chance, Noname took a few years to complete telefone, but it was 100% worth the wait, from the incredible samples and instrumental choices, to her thoughtful and reflective flow, the hooks and harmonies and freaking Eryn Allen Kane and Saba turning up. Like Coloring Book, a thoughtful reflection on difficult times and trying to make the best of them. I'm seeing noname in Philly this March and there are few 2017 shows I'm more excited for.

Nothing - Tired of Tomorrow (Relapse)

I remember meeting up with Dominic Palermo for an interview in a studio five or six years back when he played me a demo of the direction his noisepunk band Nothing was going. "Woah," I remarked. "Sounds like Slowdive." He smiled and nodded enthusiastically. Even with that early listen to Downward Years to Come and knowing how deep this sound was in their DNA, the expansiveness and sheer beauty of this year's Tired of Tomorrow still came as a huge surprise, and a rewarding one at that. After a long run of burning down stages (mostly figuratively) as Loudest Band Even nihilist punks, Nothing embraced beauty and fragility on a massive scale - tones of shoegaze and melodic avant garde are all across the amplified dreamscapes on Tired of Tomorrow, making for a resplendent, reflective set.

NxWorries - Yes Lawd! (Stone's Throw)

So how the heck is this different from an Anderson .Paak album? It's sounds similar enough, smooth and funky and fun with deliciously retrofuturistic production. And of course Paak. But Nxworries finds him teamed up with Knxwledge, the LA producer (and Philly regional native, offstage name Glen Earl Booth) who did the beat for "Momma" on To Pimp a Butterfly. You can feel both are artists relaxed and enjoying this: Knxwledge for working on a project at a grander scale than a Bandcamp beat tape, Paak not stressing over ideas of creating a monumental work with a narrative arc. Funsies for all.

Frank Ocean - Blonde (Boys Don't Cry)

Somehow, even with months of buildup and years of anticipation, with massive hype that most artists could not hope to live up to, Frank Ocean somehow manages to live up to it. Blonde is a breathtaking collection that shows off Ocean's compositional and thematic versatility -- suave electropop / rock / soul mix with reflective songs that show off his wit as much as his sensitivity, his remarkable voice and the scope of his artistic vision. Even at 17 tracks, this doesn't feel long enough.

Conor Oberst - Ruminations (Nonesuch)

As the story goes, the man behind Bright Eyes was grappling with health issues last year and needed to retreat. He went to his hometown of Omaha for a winter, wrote this set of songs and recorded them in 48 hours. Mostly just him and a piano, he left it unadorned -- Nebraska style, appropriately enough -- and they're equal parts the worldly reflections of an average thirtysomething as they are the thoughts an artist who's drawn on despondency for so much of his career still finding ways it intersects with his life. But sadness is universal, and after two-plus decades, Oberst still has stuff to say about it.

Phantogram - Three (Republic)

Between Josh Carter's sick beats and hip-hop sensibilities and Sarah Barthel's commanding voice and stage presence, Phantogram has gradually grown into one of my favorites of the electro-tinged modern rock universe. On Three, the duo reaches for the pop stratospheres on some of its biggest moments -- the earworm-tastic "You Don't Get Me High Anymore" -- but also dabbles in cathartic post-rock expressionism on "Barking Dog."

Pinkwash - Collective Sigh (Don Giovanni)

One of my favorite Philly bands to watch live, Pinkwash is a fierce wall of sound between Joey Doubek's stacks of amps and copious riffs, and Ashley Arnwine's clockwork precision drumming. Which makes them sound like a car, so I'm not loving that description, but you know, the band's thing is this collision of catharsis and focus, and Collective Sigh gathers it into one of the most punk-as-fuck releases of the year. The band's first two releases burned through the stages of grief following the passing of Doubek's mother; Collective Sigh explores the aftermath.

Princess Nokia - 1992 (self-released)

Destiny Nicole Frasqueri spends a decent bit of her latest mixtape in nostalgia-driven party mode, rapping over smooth beats that hearken back to the G-Funk era, spitting rhymes about schoolyard hangs and The Simpsons. But much as she named this set for the year of her birth, Princess Nokia isn't one for looking back; 1992 is equally dedicated to slick modern beats, supple bass undercurrents, and a lyrical dissection of race and gender roles. She's a proud Nuyorican, a proud woman, and a steadfast believer that neither of those traits limit her to any single way of living.

PUP - The Dream Is Over (SideOneDummy)

This Toronto four-piece is louder, angrier, more frustrated, more exhausted and teetering on the edge of the emotional / psychological abyss on The Dream Is Over, its second long player. Rather than give in and let go, it riffs out on one of the best punk records of the year. The Dream Is Over channels industry frustrations, alcoholism, familial rifts, personal loss and insecurity into power chords and howls. The raw sound of healing.

Quilt - Plaza (Mexican Summer)

These are extremely on-point appreciations of 60s psychedelia, but if that's all there was to NYC-ers Quilt, they would not have gotten this far. The band has an incredible sense of and knack for catchy refrains and melodies, left-of-center instrumental wanderings and tones that are out of this world bliss. Cue "Roller" and let's get lost.

Radiohead - A Moon Shaped Pool (XL Recordings)

This album came out unexpectedly on a Sunday, and critics the world around tripped over one another to rush out reviews and thinkpieces heaping praise upon adulatory praise on it. Was it undue? Of course not. Radiohead are masters of their craft and know exactly what the fuck they're doing. Was it short-sighted? Perhaps. I could split hairs about the amount of been-around-for-a-while songs in the mix -- but "True Love Waits" sounds incredible, so I won't. I might question the unspecified sense of lyrical malaise filling an album ("Identikit" notwithstanding) that supposedly comes from a very specific place -- but Thom Yorke has never been a direct lyricist, and his abstraction of text and texture both lend A Moon Shaped Pool a universality and keep return listens on the docket. Which is ultimately my point; Radiohead isn't a band for hot takes. It doesn't make albums that you can listen to five or six times, spit out a few hundred words, feel like you've offered a thorough analysis and move on. The band's In Rainbows, for me anyway, was the ultimate grower -- I wanted to like it, but didn't. It took me nearly a decade of committed listening, of revisit upon revisit, to move it from disappointing to pretty-good-but-not-sticking-with-me to holy-fuck-I-love-this. I'm being short-sighted myself in trying to cram my thoughts on A Moon Shaped Pool into this relatively tiny space, and the fact is this: I still don't fully know this album. I just know that the string section drama of "Burn The Witch" grabbed me, and the krautrock express train of "Ful Stop" alongside the minimialist piano dreams of "Decks Dark" make me want to stay in their world a little bit longer.

Rapsody - Crown (self-released)

North Carolina MC Rapsody caught my ear in 2015 with a particularly fierce verse on "Complexion" from Kendrick's To Pimp A Butterfly. Turns out she's been spitting fire for a decade, and her latest project, Crown, dropped in November. The seventh Rapsody release overall, it combines bravado and braggadocio with social consciousness ("Tina Turner"), pop culture ravenousness with motivational lyricism ("#Goals"). Honest, engrossing and so much fun.

Abi Reimold - Wriggling (Sad Cactus)

I think I've used the words "catharsis" or "cathartic" more than any other in talking about all these records. What can I say? It's been that kind of year. But nobody, and I mean nobody, was the sound of catharsis in 2016 more than Abi Reimold. Wriggling is a collection of songs steeped in betrayal, self-doubt and existential ennui, and this Philly singer and songwriter (and photographer, and a buddy of mine) channels all of it into a GInsbergian howl of howls that's heaver than any of the guitar amps she's singing to.

Rihanna - Anti (Westbury Road)

Pop stars like Rihanna are too often dismissed by the rockist set who feel that the WGWG approach is the ultimate in authenticity. She doesn't play any instruments, they'll moan, she doesn't write her own songs. And, whatever, those people are probably jerks and their minds won't be changed, so we should just leave them to enjoy the Trump years and move along. For the rest of us, this record is a damn work of art - hit machine mechanisms behind it be damned. RiRi has always flexed her versatility on her previous seven album, but Anti shows she can not just embody but freaking own any idea you throw at her, from the determined dancehall bump of "Work" to the lurking electro-rock of "Desperado," the soaring power ballad "Kiss It Better" to sensitive ballad-ballads "Never Ending" and "Close to You." The cover of Tame Impala's "Same Ol' Mistakes," the retro-pop of "Love on the Brain." Oh, and yes, "Sex With Me" is amazing. Another flawless set from one of pop's best.

RJD2 - Dame Fortune (RJ's Electrical Connections)</>

Ramble John Krohn has explored the map of electro hip-hop production so extensively, his records -- while typically outstanding -- aren't always surprising. So when Dame Fortune opened with instruments swelling into a prog rock bloom, something out of Yes' "Heart of the Sunrise" or Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, it was like woah, what's this? The set that ensues is a throwdown, pairing RJ with folks like newcomer Jordan Brown (the socially-minded "Peace of What") to Philly guitar slayer Son Little ("We Come Alive") and even an X-Factor finalist (Josh Krajcik, who lends a Joe Cocker-y gravel to "Band of Matron Saints"). Short of a few illuminating detours, Dame Fortune mostly remains in RJ's sweet spot -- but it's a sweet spot he's spend a decade and a half refining, so thats' fine with me.

Rosali - Out of Love (Siltbreeze)

Pairing thoughtful songwriting with ghostly acoustic roots rock arrangements, Philadelphia's Rosali hits any number of touchpoints on her debut LP. The chord changes and sense of catchy melody echo R.E.M.'s Out of Time; the dusty mystique recalls Neko Case's Blacklisted; the music brims with the heritage of Neil Young and Joan Baez. Songs like the sublime sway of "The Good Life," and the brisk gallop of "Hangin'" and the stark "Black As Ashes" are observational, earnest and emotive, her her live band amps it up massively. See her play a show as soon as you're able.

Out of Love by Rosali

Saba - Bucket List Project (Self-Released)

One more from Chicago? Yeaaaaaah! Okay, that Nirvana reference is not applicable here, but Saba totally got me hype this fall with Bucket List Project. Typical of the guy who wowed with the Comfort Zone mixtape a couple years ago, the vibe is tripped out but lively, his slice-of-life lyrics are inspiring, funny, occasionally moving and always honest. Soul harmonies mix with trap beats on the amazing "GPS," the almighty noname teams up with him on "Church / Liquor Store," juxtaposing virtue and vice. An arrival.

Sad13 - Slugger (Carpark)

Sadie Dupuis has been doing the guitar-driven indie rock thing for half a decade now in Speedy Ortiz. And though, as frontperson, she was in a lot of ways the center of that collective, this year she branched out wholly on her own and let loose some next level star power. As one of my writers put it very succinctly, Slugger blends dance pop and discourse, most notably on "Get A Yes," an earworm single that champions consent. Also impressive is "Just A Friend," which unpacks gender double-standards (and gives me serious I'm With Stupid-era Aimee Mann vibes). And there's a holiday song that references Krampus, which is sure to make me happy.

Savages - Adore Life (Matador)

A brilliant study of love and aggression set to arcing guitar tones and stratospheric singing from Jehnny Beth. It's loud as ever, but also dynamic and melodic with faint glimmers of optimism. Savages might have been more punishing on their 2013 debut Silence Yourself, but if you're one of those people implying that they've gone soft on the followup, I'm forced to wonder if you were listening to the same record I was, and if so, what your reasons for liking the band in the first place really were.

The Shondes - Brighton (Exotic Fever)

NYC's The Shondes have been steadily evolving beyond their raw and aggressive punk beginnings over the past half dozen or so years. Their fifth album, however, is a massive leap. While Louisa Solomon's powerful voice has always worked hooks into this band, even when they were fueled by anger, the degree to which Brighton branches into the pop zone is unexpected and kind of awesome. The set bold and catchy and instantly likeable, with lush production to match -- "True North" sounds like a song about revolution as recorded by The Bangles, and I'm totally into that sort of contrast.

Slingshot Dakota - Break (Topshelf)

Carly Commando and Tom Patterson do the drums-and-piano punk two-piece thing better than ever on their long-awaited Break LP. But as it's been a decade-ish since their debut, they've grown as people, and their concerns as lyricists has also evolved. They sing about marriage, they sing about jobs, they wonder when they hell adulthood kicks in to that point where you've "made it." They're afraid, they're angry, they're in love and they're singing about it all.

Solange - A Seat At The Table (Columbia)

The last thing we heard from Solange Knowles was True, an arty set of delightfully retro dance pop with heady romantic leanings. It was a total joy, if incredibly underrated -- Solange seemed destined at the time to burn in the light of her sister Beyonce. Then we arrive at A Seat At The Table. Finally, and deservingly, she's receiving universal acclaim of her own accord for this set of songs that is meditative and minimal, introspectively unpacking oppression, racism and sexism. It's not didactic about it, though, because those problems don't always exist in heavy-handed manifestations -- but that doesn't make them problems any less, and we hear measured and moving responses in the remarkable "Don't Touch My Hair," as well as "Mad" and a brilliant network of interludes tying the album together. Beyond giving voice to a perspective that is all too often stifled, Solange also offers solace and a sense of serenity to those who can relate with the pensive "Borderline (An Ode To Self-Care)" and the resplendent "Cranes in the Sky."

Regina Spektor - Remember Us To Life (Sire)

There was a point as she navigated her journey through the fickle world of popular music where Regina Spektor lost her way. After breaking out with 2006's Begin to Hope, the NYC piano player and singer-songwriter released 2009's Far, an uneven but mostly good collection that retreaded similar ground as her superior early records. 2012's What We Saw From The Cheap Seats fared less successfully, and was mostly unmemorable. And while the title of this year's outing seems like a command born of desperation, Remember Us To Life is easily the most satisfying set Spektor has released in a decade. Her sensitive pop chops shine on "Bleeding Heart," while the quirky lounge lizard theatrics of Spektor's early years make a more-than-welcome return on "The Trapper And The Furrier," with crushing low-key power chords and discursive lyrical references to unions and taxes and power point presentations that coalesce into a statement on inequality and injustice. What a strange, strange world we live in.

Sun Organ - People In The Distance (self-released)

Creepoid may have been one of the first from Philly's DIY scene to fuse fuzzed-out psychedelia with bare-knuckled punk rock, but in their wake, a tide of like-minded artists have continued putting unique spins on an unlikely combination. Sun Organ exists firmly in the zone of blown out amplifiers and wavy warbling vocals, but their 2016 outing People In The Distance also features a dose of world weariness and introspection that's more Elliott Smith than anything else. Come for the vibes, stay for the feelings.

PEOPLE IN THE DISTANCE IN THE DARK by Sun Organ

The Superweaks - Better Heavens (Lame-O)

Blue album Weezer guitar tones and ruminations on loss and depression from this Philly four-piece became especially poignant when bassist Corey Bernard passed away this spring -- after the album was written, but before its release. The band's focus here isn't to wallow, though; lyrically, it acknowledges the difficulties of life, but the musical goal is an uplift, and the mission statement from the opening is a good one: "get off your ass and do what you enjoy."

A Tribe Called Quest - We Got It From Here ... Thank You 4 Your Service (Epic)

This is the hypest Tribe has ever been. The most topically in the moment and poltiically-charged, the most forward-looking while simultaneously celebrating all the came before. And for this to be on the first album the band has released in eighteen years? Holy shit, people. There's so much that's already been said about We Got It From Here..., and so much that's still left to say that a mere blurb won't do it justice. I could go on for paragraphs about the brilliant incorporation of Phife Dawg's posthumous rhymes, of the insanely well-guarded secret that this album was - rivaled only by Beyonce. Of the brilliant takes on gentrification and injustice and celebrations of feminism and the younger generation of artists and activists and world-shapers. More than ever, Tribe knows what the fuck is up.

Thin Lips - Riff Hard (Lame-O)

Like The Superweaks, Philly punk four-piece Thin Lips emerged in the wake of beloved indiepop collective Dangerous Ponies. Like The Superweaks, Thin Lips have been dealt their share of personal tragedies that surfaced in album form this year. Their approach is energized pop-punk in the vein of recent tourmates Joyce Manor, less drenched in fuzz and more direct, and their mission is to take all that hysteria and sadness and channel it into their guitars and drums and vocal microphones. Chrissy Tashjian has been one of my favorite songwriters in the Philly scene for nearly a decade at this point, and Riff Hard is her best work to date -- emotional, honest, direct and capable of transforming hard times into hella tight anthems.

Tinashe - Nightride (RCA)

I'm loving this trend of dreamscapey R&B -- Jhene Aiko and SZA and Kehlani and of course Tinashe. Her second album, Nightride, gives me serious vibes of Making Time-approved vibe wanglers: SURVIVE's Stranger Things score, or The Chromatics (must be the Night Drive / Nightride collection). But beyond the superficial hip factor, this approch actually achieves something big: it scales down the biggest pop sounds, maximizing feelings of intimacy from massive personalities. Tinashe wears this incredibly well on Nightride, which largely exists somewhere in the state between sleep and wakefulness ("Sunburn" in particular, or "Lucid Dreaming" -- produced by former Philadelphian Ritz Reynolds). It's a time where some of our most honest and important thinking occurs.

The Weeknd - Starboy (Republic)

His latest release as The Weeknd sees Toronto's Abel Tesfaye receiving something of a backlash, which I just don't get. He's embodying an unapologetic pop star persona on this outing, sure, but if you've been paying attention, you'd know this is something he's been working towards for years, over several albums and mixtapes. He's simply really good at it, and Starboy is the culmination. The Daft Punk collabs, "I Feel It Coming" and the title track, are absolute bangers, ditto the off the wall disco bump of "Rockin'" and the suave and swaggering "Sidewalks," featuring a verse from K-Dot. Sure, there's corniness: the nerdy lyric "Star Trek II and the Wrath of Khan, girls get loose when they hear this song" on "Starboy," or the entirety of the aerobics workout misstep "False Alarm." Or just over-the-top libidinous lyrics ("I come back to the city and fuck every girl I know"), but again, dude has been playing the raunchy Lothario character for years, key word being character -- this is nothing new. Toss all those misgivings to the side, and it's terrific to see somebody fusing R&B and rap and dark Nine Inch Nails vibes and lust and bravado at this scale.

Yikes the Zero - The Animal Box (Extra Lovely)

Drawing on after school cartoon show samples, childhood nostalgia and turntablist beats that are punchy enough to light up a dancefloor, tripped-out enough to break into the Stone's Throw psychedelic rap universe, Philly son Yikes The Zero steps up his game his latest. The Animal Box dropped in late 2016, and on it, Yikes uses his gravelly flow to ruminate on personal growth and finding one's place in the world in a square-peg-round-hole kinda way.

Young Thug - Jeffrey (Atlantic)

ATL rap sensation Young Thug opens his latest mixtape with a lyric about ejaculating on a woman's face, so I'm opening this review by saying that Jeffrey is problematic as fuck. It makes no attempt to cloak its chauvinistic and regressive side, crossing lines from sex-positivity to simple disrespect and objectification of pretty much any of the female characters that populate its lyrics. At the same time, Young Thug is aesthetically pushing the genre in ways nobody else is right now, from his flamboyant sense of fashion to his head-spinning sonics and heady postmodernism -- nearly every song on this album is named for a celebrity contemporary, some of whom make guest appearances later in the record (ie. Wyclef Jean, whose name is lent to the opening track and who sings on alluring patchwork melody "Kanye West"). Young Thug is often cited as a divisive artist in contemporary hip-hop; crotchety vets insist that what he's doing is "not rap," or whatever, and his very name has become shorthand for Stuff That The Kids Are Into That Old People Just Cannot Understand. But unlike, say, Desiigner or Future (who fall into that similar stylistic camp), he's got a clear sense of vision. There are plenty of valid reasons to dislike Young Thug for his lyrical slant, but his artistry is undeniable.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Ab-Soul - Do What Thou Wilt (Top Dawg Entertainment)

Ben Arnold - Lost Keys (self-released)

Badbadnotgood - IV (Beat)

Bastille - Wild World (Virgin)

D.R.A.M. - Big Baby D.R.A.M. (Atlantic)

Dr. Dog - Psychedelic Swamp (ANTI-)

Orrin Evans - #KnowingIsHalfTheBattle (Smoke Session)

The Gotobeds - Blood // Sugar // Secs // Traffic (Sub Pop)

Homeboy Sandman - Kindness for Weakness (Stones Throw Records)

Hoots and Hellmouth - In The Trees Where I Can See the Forest (self-released)

J Cole - 4 Your Eyez Only (Interscope)

Lady Gaga - Joanne (Interscope)

Liz Longley - WEIGHTLESS (Sugar Hill)

Pinegrove - Cardinal (Run For Cover)

Russian Circles - Guidance (Sargent House)

Sturgill Simpson - A Sailor's Guide to Earth (Atlantic)

The Stray Birds - Magic Fire (Yep Roc)

Underworld - Barbara Barbara We Face A Shining Future (Astralwerks)

Warpaint - Heads Up (Rough Trade)