It’s no secret that music is released. But figuring out what’s coming out, and when, can be a bit of a chore. I’ve curated a list of albums over the horizon our readers might care to listen to (if only for jokes).

Coheed and Cambria.

Vaxis – Act I: The Unheavenly Creatures.

2015’s The Color Before The Sun was an enjoyable but strange album for the Coheed corpus. Their first non-concept album, set outside the universe fleshed out in Claudio’s comic-book side project was well-received but left diehard Coheed fans wanting for the epic scope and breadth of their previous works. This return to the Coheed stomping ground may possibly fare better with the palates of Coheed fans.

Electric Six.

Bride of the Devil.

I wanna take you to a gay bar, gay bar, gay bar! Electric Six is an instant classic among seventh graders. Danger: high voltage!

Kurt Vile.

Bottle It In.

Kurt’s classic. Your favorite dissociative performer is back, presumably with more lovely guitar tone and dazed delivery. If you’re unfamiliar with his work, I’d recommend a dive into his previous output – I swear I only noticed a few weeks ago that ‘Wakin’ on a pretty day’ is nine minutes long.

Eric Clapton.

Happy Xmas.

IT’S NOT FUCKING CHRISTMAS THOUGH. IT’S FUCKING OCTOBER. OCTOBER FUCKING TWELFTH IS WHEN THIS ALBUM DROPS. I thought the common cultural consensus was that mid-November is the sanctioned start to the season, though those of you with dignity will tend to put off the eggnog-swilling until at least December 1st. I swear to Christ if I catch any of you spinning Christmas jingles before first frost I will name and shame you in these here very pages. THIS. MAKES. ME. UPSET.

Twenty One Pilots.

Trench.

HAHAHAHAHAHA. Just kidding.

Haken.

Vector.

Haken has done some pretty twisted stuff. The London-based prog-metal group has diddled in virtually every movement and time signature in the genre. Their superfluous technicality is evident throughout their corpus; a brief peruse on Spotify is essentially mandatory for all you so-called metal-heads out there.

Pentatonix.

Christmas is here.

IT’S STILL FUCKING NOT. How many goddamn times do I have to rehash such an extraordinarily banal point? If Halloween hasn’t passed yet, I’d invite you to cram your Christmas spirit up your ass.

Yoko Ono.

Warzone.

I’m nominating everyone’s favorite pseudo-Beatle on the off-chance she brings the screaming back, like that art-gallery performance. That was punk as fuck.

Ty Segall.

Fudge Sandwich.

Well, it’s an album of covers, but it’s a Ty Segall album nonetheless.

Sun Kil Moon.

This is My Dinner.

The first time I heard Sun Kil Moon I got the impression that Brad Nowell didn’t really die of a heroin overdose – he wandered off to Tibet, did lots of drugs, mellowed out, and chainsmoked his way to a baritone. I can’t really explain why – obviously this is pretty distinct from punk ska – but the Long Beach vibes Brad and co. captured so effectively pervade Sun’s opus.

Jeff Goldblum.

The Capital Studios Sessions.

Holy shit, really?

Mark Knopfler.

Down the Road Wherever.

I mean, he is the sultan of swing. As a diehard fan of fingerpicking (nylon strings all day baby) I am obligated to recommend anything Marky-Mark puts out.

Muse.

Simulation Theory.

It’s 2018. I don’t really see anyone getting super jazzed-up about it.

Mumford and Sons.

Delta.

This better be on your radar, my dudes. The Church youth group is never gonna know what hit ‘em. It’s basically a crime to deprive them of these soon-to-be bangin’ jams.

Smashing Pumpkins.

Shiny and Oh So Bright, Vol. 1 / LP: No Past. No Future. No Sun.

Billy Corgan, my beloved, my beautiful baby boy. That guy sure loves his cats. I guess they’re still making music as the Smashing Pumpkins too. Judging from that clusterfuck of a title, I’m sure it’ll all work out just fine.