Mid-Year Album Roundup 2025: Sweat, Shadows, and Steel

 Mid-Year Album Roundup 2025: Sweat, Shadows, and Steel

The year started with a bang — FKA Twigs came in hot with a brilliant slice of electronic pop that set the tone early. I was literally running to it this morning. It’s slick, sultry, and totally uninhibited. There’s a lot of sex in there, but hey — I’m not Catholic.

Then Benjamin Booker followed up with Lower, an album that feels like a cracked-up version of Lenny Kravitz got lost in the shadows of Gotham. It’s dark, gritty, and jagged — full of distorted, zombie-ish vocals and eerie swagger. Produced by hip-hop veteran Kenny Segal, it’s the sound of a 14-year hunt for reinvention finally paying off. I wasn’t sold at first — then I listened, bought the vinyl, and haven’t looked back. It creeps in like a basement ghost.

February delivered a string of big ones. Horsegirl dropped an indie record that sounds like it was made in a warehouse full of chugging guitars, all under the direction of Cate Le Bon. There’s something mechanical and artsy about it — apparently, Andy Warhol would’ve managed them if he were still alive, and yeah, I see it. Darkside returned with colossal spaghetti electronics, a hypnotic sprawl of synthetic chaos from Nicolás Jaar that might be the best thing they’ve ever done. And Ichiko Aoba released a stunning folk album sung entirely in Japanese. It’s called Luminescent Creatures, and it’s exactly that — delicate, otherworldly, and quietly devastating.

March slowed things down but didn’t disappoint. Phil Cook, a Bon Iver affiliate (Justin Vernon’s crew), released a beautiful, stripped-back album made of nothing but piano and birdsong. It’s a small, gentle thing that feels like a deep breath. Jason Isbell also brought out a fantastic country album soaked in pedal steel — he sings about craving steel, loving steel. It’s grounded, rich, and made for barbershop radios and backroad nights.

April? Garbage. But one album saved it: Real Lies dropped We Will Annihilate Our Enemies, a blast of lad rap over Ibiza-house beats. It’s nostalgic, euphoric, bitter-sweet — the kind of record that fills the gap my hedonistic youth left behind. It’s the album that never existed back then, but somehow still belongs to it.

May turned the volume back up. Model/Actriz released a ferocious, metallic, queer-core record that sounds like the electro-diva album Fischerspooner never quite made. It thumps. It sweats. I run to it and sweat like a bitch. It’s alive with tension, sex, and attitude.

June came through with grace and bite. Yaya Bey dropped a collection of soulful, R&B vignettes — subtle, smoky, full of late-night clarity. Pulp returned with their first album in 24 years, a glorious Britpop comeback with Jarvis Cocker reflecting (heavily) on getting older. And Little Simz reminded everyone why she’s top tier, releasing a sharp, soulful British hip-hop record that holds its ground with ease.

So yeah — halfway through 2025, and already drenched in sweat, steel, and shadows. Let’s see what the second half brings.