We ranked the Queen of Pop’s discography, from her self-titled debut to Confessions II.
The hype machine surrounding Catching Fire kicks into high gear with Coldplay’s “Atlas.”
Perry’s third album, Prism, has been marketed as a change in direction for the singer.
Brannan discusses his new EP and the odds of getting a job after broadcasting video of himself singing on the toilet.
Later proves that Glasvegas has effectively shaken off their second-album hangover.
Review: Neko Case, The Worse Things Get, the Harder I Fight, the Harder I Fight, the More I Love You
While not strictly a confessional album, The Worse Things Get builds its momentum out of isolated, deeply personal moments.
“Bitter Rivals” is appropriately playful and in-your-face—basically everything we’ve come to expect from the band.
Tales of Us takes a step away from the electronic sound of Goldfrapp’s most popular releases.
The track takes a decidedly softer tack than “Bring the Noize,” with a summery dub vibe and sing-song melody. At least for the first 90 seconds.
Though Love in the Future purportedly has its ear on the future, Legend frequently draws on his past.
In almost every way, this is the least outré effort Nine Inch Nails has proffered since Pretty Hate Machine.
The album is an autumnal tour of vanished youth that blends period touches and details with Okkervil River’s familiar musical tics.
“XXX 88” is a collaboration between Danish singer Karen Marie Ørsted and producer Diplo.
On Graffiti on the Train, Stereophonics seem content to be half-awake.
An abstract and occasionally disjointed album that ultimately finds a rewarding balance, both sonically and lyrically, between the obscure and the deeply personal.
Tyler, the Creator describes his new song, “Garbage,” as such: “DRUG DEALING OLD FAMLAY CLIPSE TRASHCAN SOUNDING SHIT.”
Eminem has dropped “Berzerk,” the lead single from this forthcoming eighth studio album.
Murray discusses creative limitations, breaking out as a solo artist, and the dark state of the music industry.
The album feels incomplete and rushed, with the artist cramming in as many of his ideas as he can.
Colette’s music has a contradictorily loose but driving energy, like a mixed martial-arts bout fought with neon-blue throw pillows.
For the first time in years, Múm has served up something we can really sink our teeth into.