The Wedding Album's "John & Yoko" is a brilliantly disquieting composition that exists unequivocally as an intentional, constructed art piece.
The type of personality drawn in by a hyperviolent fantasy demolition derby headed up by a killer clown is likely very similar to that which most closely identifies with Juice WRLD's unfocused emotional ramblings.
With Trans Kids, Tey Meadow educates readers and gives them hope for societies that are just now learning to address gender beyond the strictures of presumed binary biology.
Mere mediocrity on the part of the superhero sidekicks doesn't seem a high enough bar for inclusion in a tome such as The League of Regrettable Sidekicks.
This is how the stream-of-consciousness rantings of an angry 60-something-year-old man should sound. Even the title of the album looks like it's missing some punctuation.
Ella Mai's self-titled debut album tries to do too much, but succeeds regardless. When the sky is the limit, can you really blame an artist for throwing everything at the wall and seeing what sticks?
Time 'n' Place sounds transitional as if Kero Kero Bonito are working their way into something that's more sustainable than the often wild, sometimes too-cute experiments of their past.
On Where Neon Goes to Die, Steven A. Clark gives us a look at a Miami where the shine is present, but the darkness beneath is the main attraction.
We have to get to the point where we see each other as human again. On Hyperion, St. Lucia is trying to show us the way. We need to start listening.
Aickman's ability to imbue in the mundane a hint of the supernatural pushes these stories from the utterly average into absorbing, fascinating territory.