We weren’t sure if Madonna could surprise us anymore. Until she did.
Given the songwriting chops Butler flashes here, there’s no explanation as to why he’s never gotten to sing a single song with Arcade Fire.
On another eternity, Purity Ring displays a willingness to more intrepidly embrace the pop underpinnings of their debut.
Tucked inside the lumbering mass of songs is an album that would, under any other circumstances, make for her best in at least a decade.
The songs should ostensibly inspire nostalgia but instead feel like they just rolled off a conveyor belt.
Deacon’s albums work off the same junky rec-room orchestration, with low- and high-culture elements all reduced to mere building blocks.
True Romance is a personal body of work, an uncompromised expression of what defines Estelle as an artist.
McMurtry steps back from the opener’s heady storytelling style for the remainder of the album’s first half, adopting a more personal mode.
Today Madonna trickled out three more tracks from her forthcoming album, Rebel Heart, bringing the (official) count up to nine.
With Blackbirds, Gretchen Peters betrays the notion that albums devoted to the subject of mortality are exclusively the province of men.
This is a race more of less between two albums: One great and daring, one mediocre and safe.
Throughout, the dancer turned singer busts out some “Papa Don’t Preach” footwork, “Vogue”-style shoulder rolls, and gravity-defying moves reminiscent of Michael Jackson.
Just as the correlation between Record of the Year and Song of the Year seems to be truly drifting apart, along comes a nearly five-for-five slate.
Sonic trickery abounds throughout the album, from mariachi horns and soupy strings to breathy female backup singers and twinkling harps.
The closer this category flirts with mainstream appeal, the closer we are to wholly justifiable nominations for, say, “Turn Down for What.”
There are a few sure bets in life: rain, taxes, and, until recently, a female artist winning the Grammy for Best New Artist.
Throughout, Dylan balances out any hints of winking self-awareness by freighting his new compositions with a heavy air of wistful sadness
All this week we’re predicting the winners in the so-called Big Four categories at the 57th Annual Grammy Awards.
For a band so obsessed with death, and its erotic possibilities, A Place to Bury Strangers sounds utterly alive on Transfixiation.
Ne-Yo may be a man of many talents, but his new album, Non-Fiction, makes it clear that the scope of those talents is limited.
Belting has never been Rihanna’s forte, and it’s as painful as it’s ever been here.