Top Ten Albums of 2025

An exceptional year for new music, even if much of what follows are late-career triumphs by long-adored artists. Fortunately, there are two entries from singer-songwriters mostly new to me and another by a young Irish musician who seems poised to take over the world. 

10. Suzanne Vega, Flying With Angels

I’d be shocked if Vega in her mid-sixties scored another surprise hit like “Luka” or “Tom’s Diner” but I also never would’ve guessed that she’d put out her best album in nearly twenty years. It helps that she’s not content to rest on her laurels, essaying new-to-her sounds like jaunty post-punk/new wave (“Rats”) or blue-eyed soul verging on yacht rock (“Love Thief”). Her signature sound is as spirited as ever whether it’s pop (the single “Speakers’ Corner”), folk (interpolating classic Dylan on “Chambermaid”) or something in between (the electric, spare title track.)

9. Florence + The Machine, Everybody Scream

Just I began losing faith in Florence Welch, she came roaring back with her most interesting album in a decade. It may not have a single track as immediate as her best (from “My Love” to the immortal “Dog Days (Are Over)”) but she appears to be playing the long game, retaining an ever palpable drive but locating and cultivating a sharpened focus that has often eluded her. She acknowledges her elder status but makes artful, witty, candid sense of it: “It must be nice to be a man and make boring music because you can,” she quips in “One of the Greats”, and she’s only half-joking.

8. Hatchie, Liquorice

On her third album, this Brisbane-bred musician dives even further into lush, heavily-reverbed and multitracked guitar-centric dream pop influenced by the Cocteau Twins and an array of 90s shoegaze bands (especially The Darling Buds, who split the difference between those two genres most successfully.) Arguably, she already perfected this balance on her effervescent (and to-date, still best) song, 2022’s “Quicksand”.  However, her songwriting and arrangements still feel fresh rather than frozen in amber, their sparkling hooks cascading on by in one breathless, euphoric rush, especially on “Sage”, “Lose It Again” and “Only One Laughing”.

7. Cut Copy, Moments

Like fellow Australian Hatchie, this quartet primarily draws from a distant past—in this case, early 80s synth-pop (vocalist Dan Whitford has always resembled The Human League’s Philip Oakey) but they’ve gradually outgrown coming off a tribute act with pop’s aesthetics across the past few decades slowly melding into a timeless, genre-bending whole. Their latest has some of their catchiest and tightest songs in years (“Belong To You” even manages to fold in some pedal steel!) but it also makes room for experiments like the seven-minute title track which thrillingly transforms midway into a hypnotic, Krautrock (or maybe Kraftwerk?)-derived groove.

6. Blood Orange, Essex Honey

Aware of but not really familiar with Dev Hynes’ long-running musical project, his first release in seven years got my attention with its ultra-specific tone (elegiac 80s British sophisti-pop such as Prefab Sprout and Scritti Politti) and unusual song structures (tracks are often broken up by fragments of seemingly unrelated tunes and melodies.) The likes of Lorde and Caroline Polachek make guest appearances but they’re unflashy and as fully integrated into the sonic textures as samples from The Durutti Column and Ben Watt. It unfolds like a melancholic dream, evoking scattered childhood memories as it processes longing, loss and grief.

5. Jens Lekman, Songs For Other People’s Weddings

Released in tandem with a David Levithan novel of the same title (featuring Lekman’s lyrics), both the book and this album spin a narrative of “J”, a wedding singer-for-hire based on this Swede’s own side hustle (itself running parallel to being one of the more distinct singer-songwriters of his generation.) Clocking in at eighty minutes, this first solo release in eight years is easily his most ambitious to date, alternating trademark orchestral pop with electronic breakbeats and scene-setting interludes, pulling off a ten-minute epic (“Wedding in Leipzig”) as nimbly as he does impeccably conceived short stories in half that time (“A Tuxedo Sewn For Two”).

4. Anna Von Hausswolff, ICONOCLASTS

Another Swedish musician, Von Hausswolff’s gothic, cathartic wall of sound couldn’t be further from Lekman’s wistful reveries, even though her first album in five years is nearly as long (and twice as epic) as his latest. Only fleetingly aware of her past output, I immediately took to these loud, dramatic soundscapes (if only she had had the opportunity to work with the late Jim Steinman!) Kindred spirits Ethel Cain and an ever-warbly Iggy Pop show up but the album’s guest MVP is saxophonist Otis Sandsjö whose melodic riffs and raucous squawks unlock seemingly limitless possibilities in Von Hausswolff’s approach, especially on the slippery, startling, propulsive “Struggle With The Beast”.

3. CMAT, Euro-Country

Ciara Mary-Alice Thompson’s third album is this year’s great leap forward. I could sense it from the delightful videos she put out for its pre-release singles and as a whole, it’s only collectively grown on me over the past few months. One could deem her an Irish Chappell Roan but she’s closer to a Gen-Z Kirsty MacColl—clever, cheeky, impassioned, someone you can’t help but root for. She excels at tunes not only packed with memorable choruses but verses and bridges, too, plus a deeply felt perspective all her own, suffused with carefully considered snark (“The Jamie Oliver Petrol Station”) cunning wordplay (“Janis Joplining”) and eloquent heartbreak (“Lord, Let That Tesla Crash” and the sweeping title track.)

2. Saint Etienne, International

When this venerable British trio announced their 13th album would be their last, it was unexpected and bittersweet (they’re not breaking up per se but rather “drawing a line in the sand” and recording no more.) Unlike nearly all of their previous long players, International doesn’t really push their sound anywhere new, exactly, serving more as an “Oops! All Bangers” victory lap. Still, even without that added sense of finality, these twelve solid songs are both triumphant and poignant from opener/lead single “Glad” (as fresh-faced and euphoric as anything on Too Young To Die: Singles 1990-1995) to the cumulative resolve of closer “The Last Time”. A lovely bow on top of a singular discography.

1. Doves, Constellations For The Lonely

It’s awfully rare, but occasionally, upon first listen, you just know you’ve heard what could potentially become one of your all-time favorite albums. After a long absence, this active-in-the-aughts band returned with 2020’s The Universal Want; five years later, they’ve followed it with an astonishing full-length that almost eerily anticipates the chaos and anxiety of how 2025 would play out (or likely was in the air to begin with.) One of the more cinematic, post-Britpop guitar bands to emerge after Radiohead’s OK Computer, they’ve never lacked for ambition, their power-trio dynamics enhanced by their expansive arrangements. Beginning with the supposedly Mad Max-inspired single “Renegade”, each song matches a solid rhythmic foundation with a sense of awe and reaching for transcendence. Even though vocals are now shared between all three members, lead singer Jimi Goodwin still defines them as does the searching and humaneness in their lyrics (“Be careful of those stupid schemes… never let them fill your mind,” Goodwin tenderly warns.) The momentum flows steadily throughout, expertly building in final track “Southern Bell” as it shifts from a mournful lament to a declaration of purpose in its exhilarating, near-apocalyptic second half.

Favorite Albums of 2025: Honorable Mentions

It’s likely a coincidence, but years ending in the number 5 have personally proven fruitful for new music as of late. 2025’s no exception and while I considered doing a top 20 albums list, I’m relegating it to a more digestible top 10. First, however, fifteen additional titles that didn’t make this top ten but would still wholeheartedly recommend (in alphabetical order by artist.)

Cate Le Bon, Michelangelo Dying. Fitting that this Welsh weirdo got John Cale, the biggest Welsh weirdo of them all to appear on her seventh album. Perhaps not as fine as her beguiling sixth full-length but she remains so convincingly herself that Cate’s always worth the wait.

FKA Twigs, EUSEXUA. Sticking with the original version of this released in January as the November redo somehow nixes its best song, “Girl Feels Good”. Quirky, surprising, genre-defying—if she still hasn’t made something as galvanizing or definitive as Brat or Ray of Light, she’s getting closer.

Ivy, Traces of You. A post-Adam Schlesinger effort (though it works his demo recordings into every track), my skepticism vanished upon hearing those inimitable “do-do-do’s” from the apparently ageless Dominique Durand on the opener and also some of the near Apartment Life-level stuff that follows.

Jeff Tweedy, Twilight Override. Not yet ready to say this 30-track is the best pop triple LP since 69 Love Songs but Tweedy is nothing if not a consistent songwriter and I’m unable to detect any real throwaways here. The charming, rocking “Lou Reed Was My Babysitter” sports the song title of the year.

Maria Somerville, Luster. In these times, I lean towards gauzy, meditative dream-pop for comfort. This Irish musician’s third album courts the more ethereal side of this genre. It blurs together for sure but you’re not left wanting for hooks, just blissfully immersed in her soundscapes.

Matt Berninger, Get Sunk. Haven’t recently heard The National’s two 2023 albums in full but my gut says this new solo one from its vocalist is better than both since it can’t deny the arresting sonic palette of “Inland Ocean” or solid melodies of “Bonnet of Pins”, “Frozen Orange” and “Little By Little”.

Mekons, Horror. After nearly 50 years together, it’s fair not to expect anything new from these beloved underdogs but they haven’t seemed so assured or impassioned since 2002’s essential OOOH! (Out of Our Heads). As they’re a band only a curmudgeon would hate, more of the wonderful same is most welcome.

Patrick Wolf, Crying The Neck. Only faintly familiar with his past work but others have cited his first album in 14 years a welcome return. It got my attention from its first spin: expansive, timeless baroque pop in the tradition of Rufus Wainwright, Owen Pallett and other queer singer-songwriters, including…

Perfume Genius, Glory. With each album, Mike Hadreas’ ongoing project finds new ways of expressing and developing his worldview, resulting in hard-to-classify songs like “It’s A Mirror” and “Clean Heart”: pop songs, for sure but full of doors leading to other rooms, not dead ends but open and free.

Pulp, More. A reunion album from Jarvis Cocker & co. shouldn’t work, but this cheekily-titled one mostly does. Sounding positively involved and inspired, Cocker has gracefully grown into wizened elder he’s always aspired to be, from bangers (the tremendous “Got to Have Love”) to ballads (“Farmers Market”).

Robert Forster, Strawberries. A scant two years after The Candle and The Flame, Forster forges some new paths here from the title track’s Donovan-esque bubblegum to tender character studies (“Foolish I Know”, about queer (!) longing) and epic prose poems (the Go-Betweens worthy “Breakfast On The Train”.)

Stereolab, Instant Holograms On Metal Film. One of the most unexpected of 2025’s many returns-to-form. Granted, they sound exactly like they did in 2010 (and 1995, for that matter) and it proves more a blessing than a curse as they’re still capable of crafting sublime melodies and incomprehensible song titles.

The Tubs, Cotton Crown. Call it The Tubs Leave Home which is to say, a twinge more refined than their debut and ever-so-slightly more accomplished (Johnny Marr would kill for the erudite lead riff on “Narcissist”.) A substantial effort but I anticipate seeing how their Rocket to Russia will turn out.

Wet Leg, Moisturizer. Rhian and Hester would like you to know that they don’t wish to be one-hit wonders (lead single “Catch These Fists” affirms it) and that they’re possibly in it for the long haul while keeping their irreverence in check on playful confections with titles like “Mangetout” and “Pokemon”.

Wolf Alice, The Clearing. These indie-rocking Brits diving headfirst into lush 70s-inspired AOR was not on my 2025 bingo card, nor was the crisp, catchy “White Horses” which resembles a woodsier B-52’s, of all things. Call it their pop sellout move but also call it for what it is: an uncommonly good one.

Halfway Through 2025

Universal Language

Taking assessment of my favorite films and albums so far at a year’s midpoint might seem like an irrelevant if not entirely futile exercise, although I’ve done so annually for as long as I can remember. While often interesting and occasionally amusing to look back and see what did or did not eventually make the cut at year’s end six months later, this is above all an opportunity to take stock (and an excuse for another blog post.)

I usually see a few films at local (and sometimes international) festivals that make this cut: I’ve already written on three from this spring’s IFF Boston (see links below); On Becoming A Guinea Fowl I viewed at IFF’s Fall Focus last November and I appreciated it more after a second viewing earlier this month. Thank You Very Much is an underrated Andy Kaufman documentary that could have benefited from a wider release; Grand Tour and Universal Language are both admirably unique concoctions that I won’t forget about come year-end.

As for albums, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that at 50, many of my current faves are from artists my age or older (British jangle-pop quartet The Tubs are the youngest here by a considerable margin.) I would argue that most of these “legacy” acts are churning out some of their best work, a few of which I alluded to in the mix I posted last week. I’ll add that Doves’ Constellations For The Lonely might end up my favorite single new album since my number one of 2023. Even though following their debut Haim has made a stronger case as a singles than albums act, after two full spins, I Quit is cohering better than I anticipated it to.

Favorite Films of 2025 so far (alphabetical by title):

Favorite Albums of 2025 so far (alphabetical by artist):

  • Destroyer, Dan’s Boogie
  • Doves, Constellations For The Lonely
  • Haim, I Quit
  • Mekons, Horror
  • Perfume Genius, Glory
  • Pulp, More
  • Robert Forster, Strawberries
  • Stereolab, Instant Holograms On Metal Film
  • Suzanne Vega, Flying With Angels
  • The Tubs, Cotton Crown

Mix: Glad

At quick glance, this mix of new songs from the past three months might appear to have come from the 1990s if one only noticed the artists included: Pulp with a glorious disco banger from their first album in 20+ years, Suzanne Vega with her strongest single in nearly that long, Stereolab back from the dead sounding as if no time has passed and the inimitable Sparks still going strong on their 28th album. 

Fellow 90s stalwarts Saint Etienne announced their new single “Glad” a few months back; when it finally dropped in late May, it fulfilled all expectations of them crafting scintillatingly blissful pop again for the first time since 2017’s Home Counties, albeit with the bittersweet reveal that their upcoming album International will be their last (they’re not breaking up but will not make any more new albums—hold out hope for an occasional standalone single.) Also nearly as much of a shock: the return of Ivy whose last new music came out in 2011. Adam Schlesinger’s 2020 death from Covid seemed to put a definitive end to the trio but the surviving members have compiled Traces of You, a new album with every track featuring instrumental contributions Schlesinger recorded over the years. It comes out September 5 (the same day as International); as for “Say You Will”, it certainly sounds like an Ivy song (and a decent one at that.)

Beloved female voices dominate this playlist from Maggie Rogers (with Sylvan Esso) covering Broken Social Scene and the ever-droll Cate Le Bon to the ever-cheeky ladies in Wet Leg (“Catch These Fists” is no “Chaise Longue” but sharp enough to stoke interest in their soon-to-be-released second album Moisturizer) and even Emm Gryner via her new hair metal (!) band Ovary Axe. To prove I haven’t lost track of actual newer artists, I’ve also included Natalie Bergman whose magnetic and vaguely sinister “Gunslinger” from her upcoming second album My Home Is Not In This World resembles a modern day Nancy Sinatra with traces of Shelby Lynne.

Glad:

  1. Saint Etienne, “Glad”
  2. Natalie Bergman, “Gunslinger”
  3. Ivy, “Say You Will”
  4. Wolf Alice, “Bloom Baby Bloom”
  5. Wet Leg, “Catch These Fists”
  6. Cerrone/Christine and the Queens, “Catching Feelings”
  7. Cate Le Bon, “Heaven Is No Feeling”
  8. Alison Goldfrapp, “Find Xanadu”
  9. Stereolab, “Melodie is a Wound – Edit”
  10. Pulp, “Got To Have Love”
  11. Matt Berninger, “Inland Ocean”
  12. Suzanne Vega, “Flying With Angels”
  13. The Beths, “Metal”
  14. Ovary Axe “Rise Up To Fall”
  15. Alex Lahey, “Don’t Wanna Know”
  16. Big Thief, “Incomprehensible”
  17. Sparks, “Drowned In A Sea Of Tears”
  18. Maggie Rogers/Sylvan Esso, “Anthems For A Seventeen Year-Old Girl”
  19. CMAT, “Running/Planning”
  20. Cut Copy, “A Decade Long Sunset”

IFFBoston 2025: Part Two

DEAF PRESIDENT NOW!

I knew nothing about Gallaudet University, a liberal arts college in Washington DC for the deaf and hard of hearing; nor was I familiar with the 1988 eight-day, student-led protest against the appointment of a non-deaf president instead of two other deaf candidates. Going in cold to a story like this is obviously the most effective way to experience it but the retelling of this incident is so well-crafted that it has that rare potential to enlighten possibly even those who lived it first-hand.

Co-directed by model/activist Nyle DiMarco, who is deaf and David Guggenheim (WAITING FOR SUPERMAN), who is not, DEAF PRESIDENT NOW! similarly feels like a bridge made to represent the deaf community and educate everyone else. While the filmmakers are privy to and make good use of an excess of archival footage of the protest (which occurred at a time when camcorders made such widespread documentation possible), it’s the modern-day interviews with the four student protest leaders that add context and resonance. Some may question the addition of voiceovers accompanying the subjects’ signing to the camera when subtitles are also present for a non-signing audience but as a concession to making a more accessible film for that very audience, it’s not a distraction; neither is the elaborate put-a-hearing-person-in-a-deaf-person’s-ears sound design. More important is how the film details this community coming together, especially viewed at an age this removed from an era in which said community was viewed much differently and often detrimentally from the outside.

This is the rare feel-good documentary that’s genuinely inspiring without coming off as cloying while also being informative and entertaining. I don’t often give films 5/5 but by successfully achieving what it wants to do and also through sheer goodwill, this one earns it.

SORRY, BABY

Movies about trauma are tricky to pull off for obvious reasons: how does one express such discomfort, anger, sadness and fear to an audience without alienating them or coming off as a weight that’s too much to bear? Eva Victor, a 30-year-old actress best known for the TV series BILLIONS takes on this challenge not only as a writer/director in her feature debut but also as its star. She plays Agnes, a college professor in a small Maine town (but mostly filmed near Ipswich, Mass.) recovering from a traumatic event whose details are only gradually disclosed. To make such a scenario digestible, Victor infuses the film with a near-caustic humor, dividing in into sections with whimsical titles, gently satirizing such events as an HR meeting with deadpan punchlines and overall gifting Agnes with a persona that leans towards the comedic self-deprecation of a humorist writer like Sloane Crosley or Jessi Klein.

As an actor-turned-filmmaker, Victor is not a revelatory talent such as Greta Gerwig or even the Jesse Eisenberg of A REAL PAIN. Her use of humor doesn’t shy away from the pain Agnes experiences but the muted tone with which she often approaches it doesn’t fully register at times. SORRY, BABY works best when she has a simpatico screen partner to play off of, particularly Naomi Ackie who as best friend Lydie brings warmth but also energy whenever she’s onscreen or the great character actor John Carroll Lynch whose one sequence in the film leaves such an impact one can sense the potential of an entire ancillary feature about his character. The missing-in-action-as-of-late Lucas Hedges also has a small role seemingly crafted to display his natural charm as Agnes’ neighbor. As for Victor, this is a good first effort that mostly works but maybe doesn’t fully live up to the buzz it has received so far. 3.5/5

PEACOCK

Matthias (handsome beanpole Albrecht Schuch) has a most unusual job “renting” himself out to temporarily be whomever one needs him to: whether a friend, son, father or dinner-date companion, he’s a willing blank slate, a cipher who can fulfill any need or role. A great idea in theory but one that has serious complications for his personal life as he can’t stop being whomever anyone wants him to be even when he’s not being asked to perform.

As a zany comedy by design, PEACOCK works best whenever it’s funny; when it tries to aim for something deeper such as pathos, it’s a little wobbly, not fully pulling off the tonal shifts needed to add depth and nuance to Matthias’ plight. Happily, it just ramps up the absurdity in its final act, arriving in a place not far off from Ruben Ostlund’s THE SQUARE, only arguably more inspired (give this to Schuch, he totally commits to the bit.) This won the audience award for Best Narrative feature at IFFBoston this year, which I did not expect but can see why: for all it does to explore the consequences that come from being a likable cipher, the film’s likability (and humor) is perhaps its greatest asset.  3.5/5

HAPPYEND

A terrific sight gag and a newfangled high concept alone do not make for a wholly satisfying narrative from writer/director Neo Sora (RYUICHI SAKAMOTO: AN OPUS). Set in the near-future (though low budget enough that one may not discern this from sight alone), high school students are subject to a Big Brother-esque AI surveillance following a prank that happens to coincide with a series of minor earthquakes portending fears of an upcoming major one. The quieter, more casual moments between childhood best friends Yuta and Kuo suggest Sora has at least learned something from the films of Kore-eda, if not how to economically tell a story. Albeit an interesting mix of humanist drama and slightly absurdist satire, HAPPYEND is less notable for its accomplishments (the sight gag is pretty inspired, after all) and more for what it could have been. 3/5

Mix: The Edge Of The World

I won’t ever stop making annual playlists but going forward, I’m hoping to curate one of newish songs every three months or so (if I were more ambitious, perhaps this could end up a monthly thing.)

Looking at 2025 thus far, it’s not entirely coincidental that two of my most played new tracks have titles that contain the words giving this playlist its title: newcomer Brooke Combe’s sharp retro-soul and the latest from Destroyer which in the tradition of 2022’s ”June” smashes together a ridiculously catchy hook with near-stream of consciousness lyrics (“My life’s a giant lid closing on an eye”, okay, Dan.) Elsewhere, fellow weirdo Bartees Strange folds something approaching Yacht Rock into his ever-unclassifiable genre-blend, FKA Twigs agreeably harkens back to the moodier stuff off of Madonna’s Ray of Light and nearly 50-year-old postpunk collective Mekons is still kicking with the anthemic “Mudcrawlers” (whose quality bodes well for their forthcoming LP Horror.)

The Tubs’ effortless jangle-pop and Perfume Genius’ venerable art-pop also make welcome returns, each previewing solid albums that may make my year-end top ten; so does Doves, who follow their 2020 reunion with an even better dive into psychedelic textures and sonics on Constellations For The Lonely, here represented by the expansive lead track “Renegade”. Empire of the Sun and Lindsey Buckingham make for natural compadres as much as Robert Forster and wife Karin Bäumler do on the uncommonly jaunty, Lovin’ Spoonful-esque “Strawberries”. 

I’m still tickled that even in this cynical age, a great novelty like Joshua Idehen’s cheeky, spoken-word “Mum Does The Washing” can still emerge from the seemingly endless interchangeable dross one has to wade through (algorithms be damned) in uncovering refreshing new music. It nearly lends credence to the relief that this playlist’s title contains the word “edge” and not “end”.

The Edge of the World:

  1. Japanese Breakfast, “Orlando In Love”
  2. Brooke Combe, “Dancing At The Edge of the World”
  3. Bartees Strange, “Sober”
  4. The Tubs, “Narcissist”
  5. FKA Twigs, “Girl Feels Good”
  6. Perfume Genius, “It’s A Mirror”
  7. Twin Shadow, “Good Times”
  8. Lucy Dacus, “Ankles”
  9. Morcheeba, “Call For Love”
  10. Doves, “Renegade”
  11. Sam Fender, “Arm’s Length”
  12. Empire Of The Sun & Lindsey Buckingham, “Somebody’s Son”
  13. Mekons, “Mudcrawlers”
  14. Hurray For The Riff Raff, “Pyramid Scheme”
  15. The Weather Station, “Mirror”
  16. Beirut, “Guericke’s Unicorn”
  17. Sharon Van Etten, “Trouble”
  18. Robert Forster, “Strawberries”
  19. Joshua Idehen, “Mum Does The Washing”
  20. Destroyer, “Hydroplaning Off The Edge Of The World”