#larussell

This year, rather than rambling endlessly, I'm just gonna focus up on my favorite albums. A list which, incredibly, begins with...

Grima, Nightside. Black metal has never really been my thing. It's intentionally cold, harsh and dry sounding, and rivals punk for its ability to just be the same song over and over (I love punk music, but let's be honest, here). And yet, here we are. Did the desolate, mournful feeling of this album just feel like the right sound for a truly emotionally devastating year? Maybe so. Do I just like the way the instrument these Siberian forest wizards are quick to say is not an accordion, but rather a traditional Siberian instrument that looks and sounds exactly like an accordion, sounds when added to their mix? Maybe also. Was I perhaps drawn in by how much the singer, dressed as the band always is as weird forest spirits, looks kinda like a Muppet in their music videos? It's possible! But whatever the reason, my 2025 Favorites list is topped by Grima, presenting their 6th full-length slab of black metal madness. This one, I have come to know, is a bit softer, a bit more folk-oriented, than they have been in the past. Sadder, frankly. All of their albums apparently expand on the mythos of a forest spirit they made up and named themselves after, though I have no idea what they're saying. But their oddly gentle, sorrowful take on the genre this time out just spoke to me for some reason. Sad and dark music hitting in 2025, who could explain it?

Lucy Dacus, Forever is a Feeling. Critics seemed unusually mixed on this, Dacus' first release since the whirlwind success of boygenius' The Record. And what I found weird to the point of being surprisingly unprofessional is how many critiques of the album essentially boiled down to "it's not like the last one." None of her albums sound all that much like the one before. That's part of the appeal, for me. But also, her last solo album was definitely her most mainstream-facing, "pop" statement, wearing her Springsteen influence on her sleeve. And pop critics are a superstitious and cowardly lot, once you go to a place they're comfortable with, don't you dare go anywhere else. At any rate, I really enjoyed this one's delicate, intimate sound. Even though she's said in various places how the songs are about a lot of people, it feels very focused, and while the music may not be as easily digestible and toe-tapping as past work, it all plays really well together. Her craft with words is as sharp as ever, filling the album with turns of phrase and observations that really resonate. I just thought the whole thing was lovely. What do I know?

Aesop Rock, Black Hole Superette. Coming just 2 years after the basically flawless Integrated Tech Solutions, Black Hole Superette is another excellent serving of the new Aesop Rock paradigm. The songs zig zag from the kind of obtuse wordplay he made his name on in the 90s to the intricate storytelling that has become a cornerstone of his modern sound with ease. The result is a collection that feels like the artist trying to compete at the highest level while also almost journaling. And while I have always loved Hip Hop Masterclass Aesop Rock songs, there's just something so appealing about the storytelling ones. Songs like "John Something" and "Bird School" are almost impossible to ignore as Aes lays on the detail and winds his way to the end. And then he turned around and released a second album this year! The man is on fire.

The Last Dinner Party, Pyre. Naming your first album Prelude to Ecstasy is a bit risky, ya know? The follow up better live up to that name. And damned if it didn't. Arriving a little over a year later, Pyre brings a new dimension to the intricate, baroque pop style of the first one. It's got a new heft, a little more muscle, without sacrificing the sound and style that made the first album so good. Pyre feels looser, more exploratory. From the addition of a sort of 70s swagger to weird vocal harmony experiments, anything could happen from track to track. But no matter where they go, the songs are instantly memorable earworms pretty much across the board. A singular debut can be a curse as well as a blessing. See the case of Wet Leg, a band that simply could not possibly create a satisfying followup to their debut no matter how good their 2nd record was. That first record was the kind of thing you can only make goofing around with you friends with no expectations, you can't get back there once you've become a memed cultural phenomenon. They did their best, it's not their fault. But The Last Dinner Party totally avoided the sophomore slump, and I'm thrilled.

Dijon, Baby! Dijon was on Saturday Night Live in December. I can't honestly say the last time I saw that show, years certainly, but I was with my girlfriend and her dad, and they decided we'd watch it. And here comes Dijon. I was eager to see him perform, but I think both of them initially had no idea what to make of him, and thought he was too weird. And yet, by the end of his first song, they were both on board. I think that sums it up, really. R&B is a lot of things, but it is rarely experimental. Dijon's approach, however, is really unusual. I am reminded of how people used to say D'Angelo's albums (RIP) rewarded repeat listens, as what he was actually saying rarely came through the first or even the 5th time. I think that's true of Baby! as well. The sound of the record is dense and off-kilter. It's pop music at its core, but it's pop music you have to work to understand at first. And it's worth the effort. Underneath all those weird sounds and time changes and tonal shifts are a lot of really personal lyrics waiting to be uncovered, well crafted songs. It's a great album front to go back.

Lil Tecca, DOPAMINE. Tecca has grown as an artist with each of his projects. I think DOPAMINE represents him hitting a new level. Stitched together by sardonic fake radio tags and commericals ("Join millions who said, 'Fuck it' with Dopamine! Call now, operators are standing by to judge you quietly"), the songs of DOPAMINE aren't really connected thematically, but they sit really well together. In an era where rap albums too often feel like an artist just shitting out 30 songs to try to get into as many playlists as possible, DOPAMINE feels like an album. Tecca is making mainstream rap for a young audience, it's not old head backpack music or whatever, but it holds together. The songs knock, they sound cool, but he sequences the "The Truth" and "Favorite Lie" next to each other on purpose. It has an intent that's just not common in his lane anymore, and it's really cool.

Rivers of Nihil, Rivers of Nihil. Generally, when a band that's been around awhile releases a self-titled album, you can take that to mean they see it as a new statement of purpose. In the case of Rivers of Nihil, who (in my opinion), released their worst album and then saw their singer quit or fired (I don't think we ever found out) in the middle of its touring cycle, only to come back from all that with maybe their best album to date, it was the right call. Poaching Andy Thomas from Black Crown Initiate proves the smartest thing they could've done, as his singular voice brings a whole new dimension to their work, and lets them write kinds of songs they couldn't before. The result is an album with a towering sound, a rollercoaster feel, and a couple of really cool more "pop" songs tucked in the middle of the chaos. Just extremely fun to listen to.

Nourished By Time, The Passionate Ones. Big year for people pushing the boundaries of R&B music. Nourished By Time's songs could be pretty straight forward, more 90s-style R&B, but for all the business going on. Reverb and filters and strange beat choices give the material its own unique sound even before you get to his unusual, versatile singing style. He writes a good song, too. It gets your attention and doesn't let go. Full of both memorable pop hooks and fun little turns of phrase that will stick with you, held together by a really appealing persona.

Frog, 1000 Variations On The Same Song. Frog's music has changed a lot over the years, having recently settled into a hard to describe indie rock with what I assume are some real love-it-or-hate-it vocals. The band follows up 2023's GROG with an experiment, as main dude Daniel Bateman explained:

“1000 Variations on the Same Song is a theme and variations—there are times in your life as a songwriter where you'll start a bunch of stuff that all sounds alike, which can be a problem, something that you want to excise from yourself. This time, I decided to embrace it and take it as far as it could go. "The first four variations were recorded in one long take. I added piano and doubled the vocals, etc, but basically, all those songs were done in one 15-minute stretch. If you’re working quickly and your goal is to finish an entire album or more in one night, amazing things can happen. How many songs can you write using the same chords? How many songs can you record and finish in one day? The answer to both is near-infinite with the right environment and mindset.”

So, yeah, it's basically the same song over and over, except if you listen to it, you'd be hard pressed to say any of them sound much alike. Slow songs, fast songs, serious songs, silly songs. One of them is a surprisingly charming Christmas song, even. It's kind of amazing. And while the title sounds like hyperbole, an entire 2nd album of variations, THE COUNT, followed a few months later. Are they really going to go to 1000? Only time will tell!

The Weeknd, Hurry Up Tomorrow. It's a shame this album got tied up with Abel's 2nd quixotic foray into acting. Despite suffering from the now-standard mainstream pop/rap/R&B music bloat (22 tracks clocking in at nearly an hour and a half to ensure placement on as many playlists as possible), Hurry Up Tomorrow is a surprisingly consistent and shockingly dark finale for the title character, if indeed it ends up being one. Shockingly dark in so far as, while he never truly abandoned the grimy, harrowing vibe of his breakout work during his rise to superstardom, The Weeknd hadn't released anything this bleak in more than a decade. He describes his oldest stuff as "horror music." I used to call it "post-apocalyptic R&B" when talking to people about it. And despite now being a gigantic pop star, he is back on that bullshit, with the capper to his loose trilogy about death and the afterlife bringing the character to a pretty barren and hopeless landscape after his expiration. The concept has been muddy and difficult to take seriously the whole time, and his insertion of real life details into the so-called narrative after the character spent the entirety of the previous album headed toward the light doesn't help in that regard, but this is pop music, who really cares? The Weeknd merging his youthful nihilism with his pop ambitions has never sounded weirder, but a fitting final album for this phase of his career.

McKinley Dixon, Magic, Alive! McKinley Dixon doesn't aim low. Previous album Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!? was inspired by the Toni Morrison books of the same names, and it was excellent. This time out, his concept is original, and no less ambitious, as our protagonist responds to the death of a friend by deciding to figure out to how bring people back to life. The album isn't so strictly devoted to its concept as to get bogged down by it, individual songs are allowed their own style and character, but it follows through nicely. It maintains Dixon's blend of natural charm, excellent writing, and sense of joy that make him one of the most compelling rappers doing it these days.

Amorphis, Borderlands. Fourteen albums, three EPs, at least four dramatic genre changes, depending on who you ask (one of them disastrous), and somehow, Amorphis still sounds vital and exciting after 23 years. The Finnish folk metal band finally settled on their sound several albums ago, but they continue to refine it and find new angles of attack. The songs continue to adapt material from the Finnish epic poem collection the Kalevala, as they have almost the entire time. And the songs sound great, huge and adventurous as their subject matter demands. Borderlands is a real highlight in a very large catalog.

Pool Kids, Easier Said Than Done. Pool Kids blend math rock and emo into their own thing. In the beginning, it was more math than emo, and while the songs displayed some stunning musicianship, they weren't so good as, you know, songs. By album #3, they've tipped the scales the other way. Now they're crafting polished, assured pop rock with a pulsing undercurrent, the feeling that something could explode any second, which inevitably gives way to their much flashier playing, but never for too long. There's a tension and release as the songs swell from simple to complex, always perfectly complimenting a big emotional moment that makes the album really exciting. If it was me, I'd maybe hike the math percentage back up a lil' more, but it's not me and they're doing fine without my input.

Ray Vaughn, The Good, The Bad, And The Dollar Menu. 2025 featured a rap beef way bigger and crazier than Kendrick/Drake, but since the only reason that one blew up is people hate Drake, I'm not surprised tumblr sat this one out. A shame, too, because Joey Bad@$$ and half the rappers in New York vs. Ray Vaughn and half the rappers in Southern California was madness. For awhile it seemed like a new player jumped in every day. The main rappers were releasing 2 and 3 songs a day sometimes. It went on for months. Probably the most memorable moment saw Ab-Soul, Ray Vaughn's labelmate and good friend of Joey Bad@$$, pop up on one of Joey's songs talking about how he put him in an awkward position. And when the smoke cleared, it was all love. I saw an interview with Joey where he talked about how it was all for the love of the game, no hard feelings on either side, and he even rated the best disses against himself. It never descended into embarrassing muckraking like Kendrick/Drake, it was just fun rap battling at its best. And in the middle of all that, almost exactly the middle, Ray Vaughn released his first full album, and it was a whole other thing. This album is harrowing in a way no mainstream rap album has been in decades. Frank, dark songs about poverty, crime and addiction. But he never lets the darkness become too much. There's always a tone shift or punchline around the corner, and there's a hopeful tone by the end. It's a real tour de force, and a real showcase for a great artist. Vaughn's elastic, unpredictable style sounds right at home talkin that shit or on the verge of tears talking about growing up navigating his mother's mental health issues. You're not going to get that from most rappers. A really incredible debut.

Mors Principium Est, Darkness Invisible.

The long-serving Finnish melodic death metal band made a pretty significant course correction in 2025. Their previous offering was just new versions of songs from their oldest work, and that's never a good sign, you know? Maybe not much left in the tank. But, no, they're back and it's all good on Darkness Invisible, which has a gothic layer of darkness that gives it quite a memorable feel while still providing the guitar pyrotechnics and blast beats you expect from them. Always nice to see an artist righting the ship.

La Reezy, LAREEZYANA SHAKEDOWN!

La Reezy! New-to-me this year, he's been honing his craft for several years by now, and he's got it. He writes sharp, fun raps, and on this release in particular, really gets into the classic New Orleans sound. He glides over classic bounce-type and Manny Fresh-type beats with a sheer joy that is impossible to ignore.

Say She She, Cut & Rewind.

LaRussel, RENT PAID!

Dessiderium, Keys To The Palace.

Shadow of Intent, Imperium Delerium.

BLK ODYSSY, MOOD CONTROL.

Cold Beaches, Ambient Joy.

Miki Berenyi Trio, Tripla.

Brother Ali, Satisfied Soul.

Allegaeon, The Ossuary Lens.

Ransom & Dave East, The Final Call.

Water From Your Eyes, It's A Beautiful Place.

Ghost, Skeleta.

Mon Laferte, FEMME FATALE.