The 25 best albums of 2022 (so far)

After the sickening heartbreak of losing her first queer relationship and watching both her parents die just a year after coming out to them, Angel Olsen went “out with the bangs and in with the twangs,” centering herself in her Americana and country music roots to pen her latest album, Big Time. As The A.V. Club’s Gabrielle Sanchez shared in her “A-” review of the album, Olsen’s latest is “her most beautiful work yet, a tapestry of pain, love, and acceptance—not only of the self, but ultimately of what we have to leave behind in this life.” Fans of the dramatic, big-band instrumentation of 2019’s All Mirrors will stay fed with the longing swell of tracks like “Go Home.” But it’s in the acoustic moments, like the open-hearted title track or the Unfucktheworld-esque “All the Flowers” where Olsen’s new sonic color palette really shines. Americana has brought whole new hues to the artist’s earth-shattering songwriting. [Hattie Lindert]

An 18-track, 84-minute double album initially released in four bite-sized chapters, Once Twice Melody is a lot. That’s the point. It isn’t an album you listen to so much as you surrender yourself to, letting Victoria Legrand and Alex Scally whisk you away to another universe. Beach House have long since perfected their particular form of incantatory dream-pop, and on Once Twice Melody, they explore and expand every corner of that sound, giving us instant classics like “Superstar” and “New Romance” and crafting what might turn out to be the band’s definitive statement in the process. [Peter Helman]

This is the second in a planned trilogy of albums surrounding Bret Halford, a disfigured science student-turned-rock star-turned-vengeful serial killer. Leather Terror drops the metallic guitars from its dynamic predecessor Leather Teeth and goes for a full bore electronic sound that often proves to be super heavy, but occasionally retreats into welcome tranquility. Nearly half the tracks this time have vocals, and enlisting intense metal singers like Johannes Andersson (Tribulation) and Greg Puciato (ex-Dillinger Escape Plan) for key tracks heightens the drama. French mastermind Franck Hueso works with a wide range of moods as he invokes vintage ‘80s sounds—Brad Fiedel’s Terminator scores, Italian giallo soundtracks, even an unexpectedly perky electro-pop track with female singer Persha. But unlike many synthwave and darksynth artists, Hueso refreshes these classic sounds within a colorful melange that could only emerge today. It’s a divine match made in Hell.[Bryan Reesman]

Since emerging from the South Florida SoundCloud rap scene that he helped pioneer as a teenager, Denzel Curry has become one of the most exciting and adventurous voices in contemporary rap music. He made his name on his thrillingly fiery live-wire intensity, but he isn’t afraid to get introspective and vulnerable on Melt My Eyez See Your Future. A dense, sprawling album that feels like a spiritual sequel to his ambitious 2018 breakthrough Ta13oo, Melt My Eyez See Your Future moves from old-school boom-bap to trap to drum ‘n’ bass and brings an eclectic assortment of collaborators from T-Pain to JPEGMAFIA into Curry’s expansive orbit. [Peter Helman]

Dan Bejar set out to make a techno album and, in typical Dan Bejar fashion, ended up with something weirder—and probably better. Named, fittingly, after an inner ear disorder that causes disorientation and vertigo, LABYRINTHITIS takes the dance floor pulse of ’80s disco and new wave as a jumping off point to head down all kinds of dizzying musical rabbit holes. With cryptic lyrics that teeter, as always, between the hilarious and the profound, LABYRINTHITIS is a work of demented genius that stands as the best and most immediate Destroyer album in years. [Peter Helman]

Drenched in Southern river water and dripping with gothic drama, the debut album from Hayden Silas Anhedönia, who releases music as Ethel Cain, introduces a reclusive star to the world. Part Lana Del Rey, part Swans, part church choir, part Bruce Springsteen … the Florida native’s influences swirl together to create an immersive sound that’s deeply rooted in her Southern Baptist upbringing. Cain has said Preacher’s Daughter was initially imagined as a screenplay, and songs like “Western Nights” and “Thoroughfare” tell sprawling stories of toxic romance and uncontrollable wanderlust. We find Anhedönia’s protagonist in motel rooms and diners, sleeping on her lover’s lap and explaining to him why she can never go home again. But when the artist leans into the raw nerves of her own past on soaring album standouts like “A House In Nebraska,” “Sun-Bleached Flies,” and the hauntingly grungy “Ptolemaea,” she reveals just how deep her aching talent runs, and how many more tales she has to tell. [Hattie Lindert]

On the tail end of Capricorn season, FKA Twigs released her ode to herself and the astrological sign with Caprisongs. The 17-track work is a sensitive venture teeming with sensuality, self-confidence, and big ‘ol bops. It’s an album for those who spend the night busting it down before inevitably capping things off with a tear fest, and for those who find themselves giving too much away in relationships. From the opener “Ride The Dragon” on, she wields her vocals like a sharpened blade over sensational beats infused with the sounds of hyperpop, reggae, and R&B. Twigs never stops short of revolutionizing herself, and Caprisongs opens up a whole new chapter for the vanguard. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

Dance Fever is imbued with Florence + The Machine’s signature magic on multiple levels. On one, the album seamlessly slots into the group’s canon while still feeling fresh; on another, balancing the distinctive sound of pop’s favorite producer Jack Antonoff (evidenced on the Bleachers-esque “Free”) with the band’s signature baroque style. Of course, much of the power is derived from Florence Welch’s incredible vocals and the haunting, timeless lyrics, like the wallop that is: “You say rock and roll is dead, but is that just because it hasn’t been resurrected in your image?” It’s not that this album is more personal than ever–previous albums have dealt with themes of mental illness and addiction–but those ideas feel closer to the surface than ever, easier to access but still raw on a tender tune like “Morning Elvis.” It’s an album that makes you want to dance, cry, and howl, to wield a sword or cast a spell, to lose yourself in a timeless fairytale woven by music’s most adept sorceress. [Mary Kate Carr]

On the exhilarating Famously Alive, Guerilla Toss complete their career-long transformation from underground art-punks to experimental pop band. Now sober after battling a years-long opiate addiction, frontwoman Kassie Carlson has come out on the other side with an infectious new lust for life that practically bursts out of “Happy Me” and the explosively anthemic title track. Full of cartoonishly colorful grooves that come dangerously close to approachability without sacrificing any of their freaky edge, Famously Alive is the sound of Guerilla Toss embracing all of their weird, wonderful impulses and emerging with some of their finest and most life-affirming work to date. [Peter Helman]

Chicago trio Horsegirl made their debut in May with Versions Of A Modern Performance, instantly becoming ones to watch. Working with members of Sonic Youth, the group crafts a highly inspired work, channeling titans such as Stereolab, My Bloody Valentine, and The Strokes. It’s noisy, reckless, and looks you straight in the eye with its defiance (despite its shoe-gaze influences). In general, Horsegirl crafts a sound that’s easy to get lost in, and is filled with nostalgia and recognition that the torch passes from one generation to the next. This is only the beginning for them.  [Gabrielle Sanchez]

From the first moments of its exultant opening track “Wolves,” Hurray For The Riff Raff’s new album Life on Earth pulsates with life. Led by the unsinkable Alynda Mariposa Segarra, Hurray for the Riff Raff’s first full-length project in four years overflows with wisdom on how to make the most of, well, refer to the title. Segarra’s powerful voice perfectly complements the band’s undulating melodies, creating what the artist has called “nature punk.” But so much of the album’s power lies in the simple honesty and beauty of Segarra’s lyricism. As they repeat over an echoing, dissonant piano in the chorus of the title track: “Life on earth is long.” As the song builds and their mantra seeps in, listening to the album feels less like recreation than prayer. Life on earth is the longest thing we’ll ever do. [Hattie Lindert]

Critical theory, but make it pop? That’s essentially what Norwegian art-pop auteur Jenny Hval does, Trojan-horsing weighty material like Deleuze quotes and interrogations of the patriarchal institution of marriage into shimmering, idiosyncratic pop songs that feel light as air. Containing breathtakingly beautiful tracks like “American Coffee” and “Jupiter,” Classic Objects is her poppiest, most accessible album yet and also her most personal, a dreamlike inquiry into the nature of art and identity set to psychedelic polyrhythms and gorgeous New Age melodies that come together to make something transcendent. [Peter Helman]

How is rap’s so-called conscience doing five years after releasing his Pulitzer-prize winning opus DAMN.? The answer is … complicated. Returning to the mic for one of the most highly anticipated albums in recent memory, Lamar knew listeners would dissect his every word. The master of mining his complex past to explore hard-learned truths, Lamar doesn’t try to make his story the world’s story on Steppers. With the melodic influence of his younger cousin Baby Keem evident throughout the album, Lamar also provides perhaps the most skilled example of an older-head artist playing with lighter production, sounding nimble and downright fun on standout “Die Hard.” In Steppers’ best moments, like the Beth Gibson-assisted “Mother I Sober,” Kendrick wrestles candidly with what it means to build a legacy from a painful past. “You broke a generational curse,” the voice of Lamar’s romantic partner since high school, Whitney Alford, tells him as the track ends. Lamar’s message occasionally fumbles, namely when he includes Kodak Black, who was accused of raping a minor in 2016 and ultimately pleaded guilty to assault and battery, on an album so explicitly grappling with sexual trama and violence. But if Lamar’s mission was to define himself to his audience and reject deification, he does so gracefully. As Lamar repeats on Steppers’ exultant closing track “Mirror:” “I choose me, I’m sorry.” [Hattie Lindert]

Childhood best friends Rosa Walton and Jenny Hollingworth were precocious teenagers when they recorded their first album together as Let’s Eat Grandma. By their third, this year’s fantastic Two Ribbons, they’ve fully grown up, grappling with love, loss, and the changing nature of adult friendship in glistening synth-pop anthems aimed at moving your feet and your heart. “Been thinking quite a lot about that / How I’d wanted the old us back,” Walton sings to Hollingworth on the bittersweet opening track “New Year.” The old Let’s Eat Grandma were good; the new Let’s Eat Grandma could be even better. [Peter Helman]

Every Nilüfer Yanya song is an exercise in restraint. Interlocking tendrils of spidery guitar flicker like simmering flames around the edges of her beguilingly minimalist compositions, always threatening to explode and pulling back at the last second. She’s an expert at building tension, which makes the rare moments of release in songs like “midnight sun” and “belong with you” all the sweeter. PAINLESS is colder and moodier than her debut but also sharper and more focused, an immaculately constructed portrait of numb heartache that can make you feel a lot with a little. [Peter Helman]

One of the (good) constants of my adult life is the knowledge that a new album from Papercuts is on the horizon, often arriving just when I need it. Last year, Jason Quever’s ongoing analog project released the EP Baxter’s Bliss, which boasted great covers of Galaxie 500 and Leonard Cohen songs and a stunning original closer, the New Year’s Eve-set bummer “End Times Daily.” And then, this April, this LP came along, a more sprawling sonic affair that kicks off with “Lodger,” a sun-kissed, stummy number (“Now, it’s Sunday morning, high in my room, sitting on a window ledge,” Quever starts) with some stoner paranoia thrown in (“I cannot hide,” he adds to the verse later on). Throughout the record (my most played cuts are “Palm Sunday” and “Comb In Your Hair”), expect warm, warbly guitars, VU-esque strings, tambourines, oscillating retro keys, and Quever’s unique singing style floating above it all. If you like Beach House, Dean Wareham, and Cass McCombs (all acts he’s produced), you’ll love Papercuts. [Tim Lowery]

These modern prog-rock masters went on hiatus 12 years ago, but in their long-awaited return their synergy feels as natural as ever. Core members Steven Wilson (vocals, guitars, bass), Richard Barbieri (keyboards), and Gavin Harrison (drums)—bassist Colin Edwin hasn’t returned—bring us the kind of multi-dimensional rock music that can fluctuate widely from a whisper to a roar across musical peaks and valleys. From the darkly dreamy “Walk The Plank” to the angst-ridden “Rats Return” with its bursts of metallic guitar, the band is here to charge you up and feed your mind. Make sure to dig into the bonus edition with three extra tracks, including the soaringly dramatic “Population Three.” As with any great Porcupine Tree album, you’ll feel like you’ve been on an emotional journey that you’ll want to take again and again. [Bryan Reesman]

Pusha T raps about selling cocaine. That’s his thing. That’s what he does. Luckily, he does it better than anyone else on the planet, and It’s Almost Dry doesn’t need to break any new thematic ground to sound vital. “Walk it down like Brady, gets better with time / Didn’t have to reinvent the wheel, just a better design,” Pusha says on “Dreamin Of The Past.” Produced by longtime collaborators Kanye West and Pharrell, both pushing each other to make their beats harder and meaner, It’s Almost Dry is a masterclass in icy precision from three stars at the top of their game. [Peter Helman]

The cult of Rammstein continues to grow in America, as evidenced by their eight-date stadium tour coming late this summer. It doesn’t seem to matter that most fans don’t understand their German lyrics, especially as Till Lindemann evokes so much emotion through his singing. Besides, the translations are available online and the edgy mini-movies that are their videos certainly clue you in to their concerns. Here, that’s everything from socialized hate, plastic surgery addiction, and a meditation on the nature of time to loving busty ladies (with oompa band accompaniment). It’s a testament to Rammstein that they can stir up both silly salaciousness and social consciousness and make them click. Their mechanized guitar stomp and judiciously integrated keyboards trim out all the fat for thunderous grooves and surprisingly introspective moments. Rammstein seems to be the only rock band left that really wants to provoke people—in a smart way. [Bryan Reesman]

Four years after her stellar Crush EP, neo-soul siren Ravyn Lenae made her official debut this year with the album HYPNOS. Each song offers a slice of sensuality-laced heaven as Lenae wields her whispery, out-of-this-world vocals with care on every track. In the tender standout track “Skin Tight,” she reunites with frequent collaborator Steve Lacy to touch upon the themes of intimacy, desire, and the fleeting nature of connection. As the album title suggests, HYPNOS lulls you into a trance, leaving you mesmerized. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

Spanish singer Rosalía’s Motomami takes us for a fast-paced ride atop a jet black, slick motorcycle. The 16-track album is exhilarating, smooth, and pulsing with fervor. Rosalía effortlessly steers us through the twists and curves of Motomami, traversing dance anthems and tender ballads with ease. Motomami collapses genres, channeling pop and hip-hop all through a baile lens. With each track clocking in at around a 2 minutes and 30 seconds, the singer makes each moment count, seizing the opportunity to explore a new sound, texture, or emotion. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

For her sophomore record, Sasami went ahead and threw her first record’s sound out the window, opting for something searing and unapologetic. In Squeeze, the singer-songwriter emulates late ’90s rock, slasher metal, psych rock, and so much more in her dynamite rock opera. She transforms Daniel Johnston’s “Sorry Entertainer” into a full-on shredder, calling to something much deeper and fueled by rage. Overall, Sasami rears full control over a work which could be unyielding and untamed in lesser skilled hands. Squeeze is a nu-metal triumph which offers a reprieve for women and members of the LGBTQ community who feel stifled by society’s parameters on confrontation, fury, and the ways we respond to oppression. [Gabrielle Sanchez]

Over the past three decades, Spoon have amassed a bulletproof discography and earned a well-deserved reputation as one of the most consistent bands in indie rock—but to focus on their consistency alone is to ignore the subtle variations that make each of their albums so special. Lucifer On The Sofa jettisons the dancey synth-streaked experimentation of 2017’s Hot Thoughts to hone in on the classic rock swagger that undergirds so much of Spoon’s music. From the gnarled Smog cover “Held” and the heavy-riffing “The Hardest Cut” to the soaring and anthemic Spoon-do-Britpop of the Jack Antonoff co-write “Wild,” Lucifer On The Sofa is a no-nonsense, back-to-basics collection from a great rock and roll band doing exactly what they do best. [Peter Helman]

Who wouldn’t want their journey through the afterlife to be narrated by Jim Carrey as an easy listening DJ? “Don’t panic! There’s still more music to come before you’re completely engulfed in the blissful embrace of that little light you see in the distance,” he intones on “Out Of Time.” Executive produced by pop hitmaker Max Martin and synth wizard Oneohtrix Point Never, Dawn FM successfully merges Abel Tesfaye’s pop-star and experimental ambitions into a quasi-concept album about listening to a celestial radio station while descending into oblivion. If it’s got retro-futuristic synth-funk jams as undeniable as “Sacrifice,” “Take My Breath,” and “Less Than Zero,” purgatory might not be such a bad place to stay. [Peter Helman]

It’s hard to think of an indie band in recent memory that crashed onto the scene with as much hype as Wet Leg, and it’s even harder to think of one that deserved it as much. The buzzy UK duo of Rhian Teasdale and Hester Chambers, who signed to Domino Records before they had even released a single track, became overnight sensations thanks to their ridiculously catchy debut single “Chaise Longue.” Thankfully, the rest of their self-titled album more than delivers on that early promise, spinning snapshots of millennial malaise into catchy modern post-punk with plenty of droll humor and plenty more hooks. [Peter Helman]

These did not quite make the cut for us, but still deserve a bit of recognition.

• Aldous Harding, Warm Chris
• Bad Bunny, Un Verano Sin Ti
• Big Thief, Dragon New Warm Mountain
• Black Star, No Fear of Time
• Kelly Lee Owens, LP.8
• Mitski, Laurel Hell
• MJ Lenderman, Boat Songs
• Sault, Air
• Whatever The Weather, Whatever The Weather
• billy woods, Aethiopes