The singer’s L.A. show was an ecstatic celebration of what it feels like to reemerge at one’s freest and freakiest.
The allure of a Swift performance has little to do with the traditional qualities that draw people to live shows.
The album solidifies the band as the boldest purveyors of something resembling what we used to call rock.
If the world is burning, the album asserts, you might as well enjoy the bonfire.
Even when they’re having fun, the Pet Shop Boys never fail to call it like it is.
Belle and Sebastian wants to dance, but Girls in Peacetime Want to Dance is less of a 180 turn than one might expect.
24 Karat Gold: Songs from the Vault is a glorified act of copyright protection.
For a musician who can be as withholding as Williams, the generosity of Down Where the Spirit Meets the Bone is a welcome change.
Grappling with that fraught history and how we move on is the explicit aim of Hercules and Love Affair’s third album.
If Tori Amos’s Unrepentant Geraldines is indeed visual art, it’s more of a polite Norman Rockwell than a vomit-stained Sherman.
For all its heady ideas and pretty moments, The Future’s Void is a mishmash of half-completed thoughts that fails to fully connect.
With Electric, the Pet Shop Boys have once again given themselves a lease on another era.
Lenda Dunham takes pains to debase her charactyers, and makes them both funnier and more recognizably human in the process.
Del Rey’s been called anti-feminist, though for what reason I still can’t discern.
Certain artists cry out for the remix treatment more than others, but Lady Gaga is not necessarily one of them.
These characters love each other and we love them, no matter how much they fuck up.
The Rapture has put their heart on the line, and they want you to know that, indeed, they mean it.
Luke Jenner and company turned in a remarkably assured performance, without any of the out-of-practice awkwardness one might’ve expected.
Good Neighbors basically runs on the assumption that Montreal is the last place you would ever want to live.
Jig doesn’t twist itself into the self-important, exploitative think piece on youth ambition that Spellbound was.