10. Tunng, Songs You Make at Night
On Songs You Make at Night, Tunng leans into the hushed, textural world they helped pioneer, weaving folk instrumentation with glitchy electronics and whispered vocals. The album explores the liminal space between sleep and consciousness, where dreams take shape and memory slips sideways. Tracks are full of flickering samples and acoustic loops that feel both organic and carefully constructed. It’s subtle, detailed, and oddly comforting.
9. Villagers, The Art of Pretending to Swim
On The Art of Pretending to Swim, Villagers' Conor O'Brien folds faith, doubt, and digital disconnection into a lush, quietly restless collection. There’s a warmth in the production, looped beats, gospel-tinged harmonies, soft synth layers—that gives the record a pulse even when it drifts into abstraction. Tracks like “A Trick of the Light” and “Real Go-Getter” balance reflection with movement, revealing O'Brien reaching for meaning without claiming to have it all figured out. He’s one of my favorite artists, and The Art of Pretending to Swim does not disappoint.
8. Nils Frahm, All Melody
On All Melody, Nils Frahm blurs the line between composition and atmosphere, building an ambient, electro-acoustic world that resists easy classification. Recorded in Berlin’s historic Funkhaus, where Frahm spent two years painstakingly constructing his dream studio in Saal 3, including a custom mixing desk, a pipe organ, rebuilt wiring, and hand-finished woodwork, the album is rooted in a space designed to capture its every nuance. It breathes with natural reverb and warmth, unfolding slowly with layered textures and pulsing synths. Even after many listens, it remains elusive, a shifting landscape that invites immersion rather than analysis.
7. Gaz Coombes, World's Strongest Man
Gaz Coombes’ World’s Strongest Man trades swagger for subtlety, leaning into layered grooves where mood takes the lead. Synths hum beneath spacious arrangements, and his falsetto moves with controlled ease. The album feels far removed from his Supergrass days, more inward-looking and refined, built on texture rather than immediacy.
6. Twenty One Pilots, Trench
5. The Pineapple Thief, Dissolution
How The Pineapple Thief stayed off my radar for nearly twenty years will remain a mystery to me. Fortunately, it's never too late to discover a truly great band. Offering contemporary lyrical themes that take up the disintegration of relationships and the undoing of our social fabric,' Dissolution, the band's twelfth album, explores the idea of 'being more connected than ever yet in the same breath, finding that those connections often result in the breakdown of physical interaction (Louder Than War). All of this against a musical backdrop that 'blends simple melodies with complex song structures in a masterful way' (The Prog Space). It all makes for a dramatic album that should not be missed.
4. A Perfect Circle, Eat The Elephant
After 14 years, A Perfect Circle returns with Eat The Elephant, a restrained, piano-led album that trades brute force for atmosphere. It’s a slow-burning record, deliberate in both tone and pacing, with Maynard James Keenan’s vocals taking on a more reflective role. The band leans into space and texture, using electronics and orchestration to create a sense of unease that’s more psychological than explosive. Tracks like “Disillusioned” and “TalkTalk” feel like unsettling warnings, delivered in a voice that’s weary but resolute. It’s not the record longtime fans like me might have expected, but it’s exactly what it should be.
3. Lo Moon, Lo Moon
Lo Moon’s self-titled debut is a slow burn, rich with atmosphere and restraint. The band leans into widescreen textures and patient builds, channeling the polished melancholy of late-80s synth rock without sounding stuck in it. Tracks like “Loveless” and “This Is It” stretch out in cinematic arcs, full of shimmering guitars, pulsing bass, and Matt Lowell’s quietly urgent vocals. There’s a confidence in how much space they leave, letting the songs breathe without ever losing their emotional pull. It’s a record that trades immediacy for depth, unfolding more with every listen.2. Hippo Campus, Bambi
Bambi is an album I just can't get out of my head. Marked by a shift in their sound, Hippo Campus embraces a more experimental, synth-driven approach compared to their earlier, guitar-heavy indie rock. The album feels both introspective and restless, with lyrics that explore anxiety, change, and emotional vulnerability. Tracks like Golden highlight the band's willingness to play with unconventional song structures, layering shimmering synths and glitchy beats over heartfelt vocals. There’s a looseness to the record, yet it still carries the sharp melodies and youthful energy that define Hippo Campus. I love how the band continues to evolve, balancing personal reflection with a fresh, dynamic sonic landscape.
1. Sandro Perri, In Another Life
Sandro Perri defies logic on In Another Life, which he describes as an experiment in “infinite songwriting.” The 24-minute title track drifts without urgency, unfolding like a dream that refuses to resolve. Built on slow-moving chords and gentle melodic shifts, it creates a sense of time suspended, where moments stretch and dissolve before ever settling. There’s no climax, no chorus, just the quiet confidence of a song content to exist.
The second half of the album consists of three versions of “Everybody’s Paris,” each one reimagined with new collaborators and shifting textures. What could feel repetitive instead becomes a study in perspective, as melodies reshape and emotional tones recalibrate. Perri leans into ambiguity and space, letting atmosphere do the heavy lifting. It’s an ambient pop suite that feels both meticulous and unbound, mesmerizing, hypnotic, and quietly unforgettable.
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