The band’s first album in a decade is more haunted than its arena-sized choruses suggest.
The prevailing aesthetic here adapts the breezy piano compositions of OH (Ohio) into a sound that hints at the style of big-band crooners.
The inconsistencies in the quality of the singer’s songwriting keep the set from being as powerful as her earlier work.
The myth of “The Voice” emphasizes how natural it all was for Whitney Houston and how easy she made it look.
Reign of Terror is ultra-stylish fight music.
Visions is a flawed but intimate glimpse into the fantasies of its creator.
Nicki Minaj isn’t taking any chances with the official lead single from her forthcoming sophomore album.
We spoke to him about his upcoming solo shows, the painstaking metaphysics of songwriting, and how three year olds occasionally come up with the best titles.
Beatrix Runs announces Elizaveta as a refreshing new talent.
The mystique that surrounds Nick Thorburn gets less interesting as his music becomes more conventional.
The album finds Tennis held hostage by their own limited strengths.
Del Rey’s been called anti-feminist, though for what reason I still can’t discern.
J. Cole is the only one nominated for best new artist that we can’t see winning.
The Singles is a terrific showcase for Goldfrapp’s versatility.
This Sunday, Maya Arulpragasam is going to the Super Bowl, which is like Harold Bloom going to Disney World.
We caught up with Bromberg to discuss what it’s like playing for drugged-up audiences and how the profession of being a touring musician brings out masculine angst like no other.
The last time Madonna got divorced, we got “Like a Prayer,” so it’s hard to ignore how decidedly vapid “Give Me All Your Luvin’” is by comparison.
The bait and switch of the year so far can be found in the first 30 seconds of Zebra Katz’s irresistibly spare song.
Emotional Traffic only works in its moments of restraint and relative good taste, and those are exceedingly rare.
There’s a sense throughout Old Ideas of Leonard Cohen facing a void and welcoming its emptiness.
Since when exactly has “authenticity” ever been a criterion in pop music?