Ólafur Arnalds at his absolute best
The minimalist master comes to the Royal Albert Hall.
The soul of hip-hop: why J. Cole’s status as a member of rap’s elite trifecta can no longer be disputed
J. Cole is often seen as a musician overshadowed by Drake and Kendrick Lamar, but with KOD, his latest studio album, he shows why he’s a vital voice in modern hip-hop. Music writer Jordan Bunke charts his evolution as an artist, and shows why nobody can dispute Cole’s
Grid of Points – A ambient meditation on silence and absence
Grouper’s latest album, recorded in the middle of a cold snap, sees them moving more towards piano and vocals, in a guarded display of intimacy.
American Dream: Dirty Computer is the truth Janelle Monáe no longer wants to hide
Monáe steps out of Cindy Mayweather’s shadow in her most powerful album yet.
A wrong, mostly short history of punk rock, part III
Hank finally got his shit together sufficiently to write the third and final installment of Felix Music’s history of the nittiest, grittiest genre that’s ever graced a recording booth. Unfortunately, he still can’t write consistent titles.
When Sting met Shaggy
Despite sounding like a bad April fool’s joke, the collaborative album between Sting and Shaggy is actually surprisingly decent collision between artistry and meme.
KOD – Rushed execution holds J. Cole back
Following on from his critically-acclaimed 4 Your Eyez Only, J. Cole’s latest release, KOD, is marked by mature lyrical content, but is hampered by sloppy technique.
It takes a village to raise a song
A band formed through Skype rehearsals release their debut.
David Byrne is far too happy for my liking
David Byrne returns after a long hiatus, but his effort is a bit too twee.
There’s Too Many Man, Too Many Many Man!
In the wake of International Women’s Day, Music Editor Andy Djaba discusses the unfortunate prevalence of misogyny in hip-hop.
A brief, mostly wrong history of punk rock, part II
The saga continues, covering ‘76 to the mid-90s or so. Stay tuned for Part III, where I’ll wrap this shit up.
King Gizz are exactly as you’d expect: fucking great
The queue looped around two corners as fans waited eagerly to pass beneath the dome of the O2 Academy Brixton. Spanning the readergraph above them hailed the cause: Australian psych-rockers King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard. Performing their only London show in the support of the immense five albums they