Two slacker icons offer a wobbly, hazy shape of a certain kind of punk to come.
The gloriously hard-nosed rapper turns in a sophomore album that plays to his strengths.
Victoria Hesketh’s third album lets both her humor and her vulnerability shine through.
The Japanese rockers can paint with any color.
The original lineup’s first album in 18 years ditches nostalgia for a thorough embrace of their alternative rock roots.
The Long Beach rapper’s debut feels like nostalgia’s shadow contorts behind every step.
A hypnotic, meditative work that falls somewhere between “album” and “soundtrack.”
A clear-eyed, hopeful vision of living in 21st century America.
There’s no fate but what box office we can make.
When you gaze long into the Tatum, the Tatum also gazes back.
Alan Rickman’s film has far more magisterial set dressing, without any actual cinematic flair.
On his eighth album, Kieran Hebden crafts 40 minutes of vivid, dreamy, culturally challenging work.
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