Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.
For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.
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When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
Each week, I try to come at this with a certain theme—or at least a nominal throughline—running through it. Sometimes that really does only go as far as “what I’ve been listening to.” There’s no deeper meaning here, no message I want people to pick up—just a snapshot of the week that was for a suburban dad living on Hoth in flyover country. Some real Occam’s Razor stuff, to be sure. And sometimes that escape or respite is just what we need—if only for a few minutes at a time.
Zooming in a bit: on Saturday, I mentioned that the Best Record of 2001 bracket would kick off soon (are you in?). There’s a couple of tracks here from records on the initial ballot (Colin Hay, The Dirtbombs, and Semisonic), a few brand-new tracks from old faves (New Pornographers, Snail Mail, Kim Gordon), and a new spin on an old favorite, with The Beaches taking on a song everyone raised on MTV will remember (h/t to Dan Pal for getting it on my radar!).
We’re also rewatching Mad Men, which led me to finally find a Decemberists song I liked. Funny how that works. Saving the best for last, we’ve also got a new one from our pal Lancelot Schaubert.
In other words, a world surrounded by sound, with tracks coming from all corners. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to? Whatcha got? Share your thoughts in the comments!
P.S. A few of you have asked whether I sequence these as an album or mixtape. The answer is always “yes.” In my head, I imagine them being played on your morning commute or road trip. I’m too old to use the word “vibes” as much as I have lately, but, well, if the shoe fits…
This week, Side A is tracks 1-14, with Side B being 15-27
Today we’re taking a quick look at some garage punk from both the Best Coast and No Coast, some no wave from Down Under, and bit of hip hop from Nottingham.
Longtime readers may recall that I reviewed 100 new (to me) records last year. Because I’m a glutton for punishment love music, I’m doing it again this year. This is the latest in the series.
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at the latest from Dry Cleaning, Sleaford Mods, Perfect Buzz and Wristwatch.
The boilerplate intro: Every year, I celebrate all the great music we’ve been gifted while worrying that next year will see the other shoe drop. I first did that in December 2020 and have been proven wrong every month since. Not only are there a ton of releases steadily coming out, but it also transcends genre or any other artificial guardrail we try to put up.
In other words, a ton of good stuff is still coming out, and there’s something for everyone. It’s almost overwhelming— but in all the best ways. These are another batch that caught my attention recently.
Hard to believe that it’s 2026 already, but here we are. Luckily for us, the records keep coming. Below are a few quick field reports from right between the sound machine.
Let’s get into it!
Wristwatch- III
Album art courtesy of Wristwatch
The pitch: After a 3-year layoff, Madison’s Wristwatch kicks the door in and delivers a blistering dose of garage punk.
If nothing else, the title of the band’s third album is on the nose. Know what else is on the nose? Just how well they nail down these songs. I had some knowledge of the band (translation: I knew a couple of tracks) and liked what I heard, but had never experienced a full record. Listening through the first few, it’s clear I’d been missing out. The previous records were recorded and mixed at frontman Bobby Hussy’s house. For III, the band brought in producer Beau Sorenson (Bob Mould, Superchunk) to engineer and mix the sessions. The result? Everything is leveled up (no pun intended).
III is a record that starts at 3k RPMs and never lets up. Coming apart at the seams is an occupational hazard of playing this brand of high-voltage music. That never happens here. Hussy is as theatrical as ever, but never too far gone. Ben Deidrich’s guitar work runs the gamut from bruising chords to angular riffs and back again. The rhythm section of Tyler Spatz (Geoff Palmer) and Eric Hartz (The Flavor That Kills) keeps everything in the pocket and keeps everything from spiraling off into terminal velocity.
When I do a first listen, I like to try to take note of what might be a feature track. This time around, I couldn’t narrow it down. Opener “Screwed” gives an early taste of what we’re about to get into. “Hints” does the best job of showcasing each of the four players and drives deep into post-punk territory. But really, all of ’em rip. It’s magnificent. And just the thing for right now. I’ve been listening to this on my pre-dawn commute this week, and it’s almost made me forget the subzero temps on the other side of the windshield. Get in.
The RIYL roster includes some of the usual suspects: Buzzcocks, New Bomb Turks, and to my ear, maybe even a bit of the Supersuckers.
In 2021, Dry Cleaning’s New Long Leg felt new and exciting — just the sort of thing needed to shrug off the lingering malaise of the pandemic. Florence Shaw’s writing and deadpan vocals felt like a “brand refresh” for The Fall. It might’ve been a case of putting a new spin on an old formula, but it worked. And it worked well enough that New Long Leg was my record of the year.
That year, I wrote in part:
The English post-punk band knocked it out of the park with their debut album…The musings/vocals mix well with the layered, dense soundscapes she’s talking over (but not overtaking). Dry Cleaning reminds me a bit of King Missle, except Shaw’s talking about things like lanyards and helicopters, and not detachable…organs…
In other words, Mark E. Smith and John S. Hall walked so Dry Cleaning could run.
But given the brand of music they were making, how far could they go? If I’m honest, I didn’t really want to find out. If New Long Leg was a revelation, Stumpwork was… not. And in a crowded field, it wasn’t hard to overlook it.
The nudge I need came from our pals at 3Albums6OldGuys who went in with the same reservations I had.
Dry Cleaning is, at least from a listener’s perspective (my sense is they probably don’t give a rat’s ass), a band confronting two issues: (1) they’ve really only had a singular sound, so for how long can they keep doing the same thing?; and (2) other bands have now gotten more attention with that sound, and because of those other bands (rather than them), the sound seems a bit played out. So, do they keep going, a la Guided by Voices, and just say “f it; this is who we are and what we do” and keep churning out more of the same, or do they change it up?
Things kick off with “Hit My Head All Day,” which at 6 minutes and change might be about 3 minutes and change too long for a Dry Cleaning song. But just a few seconds in, you start hearing other elements and stylistic shifts. Nothing major, just enough to think that maybe they’ve gone with mixing things up. Maybe the formula’s not as rigid as we thought?
“Cruise Ship Designer” has a bit of call-and-response, with Shaw serving a bit of an anchor while her bandmates do their thing. At 2:30, it’s the perfect length. The title track feels almost… warm? Ditto “The Cute Things.”
And are there horns here? Am I listening to the right record here?!
Dear reader, it sure sounds like it, and I am.
The band brought in Cate Le Bon to produce. Le Bon’s no stranger to this lane of no wave and art pop, and does well to bring Shaw out of her shell. Insouciance is great, but only for a few tracks. Same with bandmates Tom Dowse (guitar), Lewis Maynard (bass), and Nick Buxton (drums). Shaw is still the sun they orbit around, but overall, Secret Love finds them operating more as a band than on previous records.
So yeah… a lot of leaning into familiar territory here, but also hints of evolution. Sometimes the signal’s faint, and sometimes it’s 5×5. That said, they save the loudest transmission for the end. Album closer “Joy” is, well, a joy. I’m always a sucker for a jangly guitar, but add Florence Shaw again actually singing in places, and now we’re cooking with gas. It’s all relative, but relatively speaking, it’s a sea change and a refreshing one at that. If the other elements throughout the record (e.g., brass, background choruses, etc.) were a hint, this is indisputable evidence.
Perfect Buzz- Happy Trails (EP): PDX garage/punk scene vet Petey’s (Pure Country Gold, Suicide Notes) latest project is Perfect Buzz. Happy Trails blends first-wave punk, power pop, and psych in a way that can only come out of the 503. I’ll take all of this ya got! On a side note, in their Bandcamp pic, one is wearing a Dead Moon hat, which made me irrationally happy. Incredible.
Sleaford Mods- The Demise of Planet X: One of the things I miss the most about Twitter is having a feed full of cool/interesting people. That itself was a gift. Occasionally, something like “Kebab Spider” showed up on your TL and blew your mind. It was the perfect record at the perfect time. Those days are gone, but Sleaford Mods are still at it and have delivered what might be their best work yet. The Demise of Planet X is again the perfect record for right now. Surveying the land, they pull no punches and give no Fs. At this point, that’s table stakes for the band.
In danger of becoming a one-trick pony (see also: Dry Cleaning), the duo of Jason Williamson and Andrew Fearn long ago figured out that stretching the boundaries made sense. There are guest spots (Aldous Harding, Sue Tompkins, etc.), which we’ve come to expect. What I wasn’t ready for is how varied the sound itself is. Make no mistake: it’s still looping and relentless, but we’re a long way from Fearn holding up a tape recorder in the background. The end result is infectious.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on these records! Did I get it right, or am I way off the mark?
Some thoughts on The Grateful Dead, grateful Ducks, and one’s shifting musical tastes.
If you want to know what my dad was like, imaginethe Halt and Catch Fire cast member of your choosing towards the end of the series (okay, maybe not Boz). Clean cut. Rarely without a suit and (at one point) a pair of matching Audis in the driveway.
If you want to imagine what my uncle is like, picture the opposite. He was—and is—the prototypical Deadhead. Followed them on the road, had a VW bus, and even made a living designing/selling T-shirts.
If you want an idea of how obnoxious I could be in the mid-90s, just know that I had a “Thank You, Journey” sticker on my car. These, of course, were in response to the legions of “Thank You, Jerry” stickers that everyone had following Jerry Garcia’s death. That marked the end of an era for many people, but I honestly couldn’t be bothered. Sure, I understood the cultural ramifications, but this was a band I only knew of from afar… and from punchlines. It wasn’t for me… yet.
That we lost Bob Weir this week won’t be news to anyone here. I noted a few days ago that it was frankly refreshing to see my TL flooded with remembrances from all corners. I don’t know what it says about 2026 that mourning was a nice change, but here we are.
A lot of people also shared their experiences of the Dead, and of Weir. Almost without exception, those people have more ground to talk than I do. Nevertheless. Here’s a great example. Here’s another. And one more for good measure.
For most of my life, the Dead were a band I experienced secondhand. My uncle playing them in the hopes that this might finally be the time they land with me at home. Friends playing them as we all crammed into someone’s VW and made our way to the coast or Mt. Hood. Grainy Super 8 footage on TV shows. Once, when I was about 10, I tagged along on one of my dad’s business trips. On a rural highway somewhere on the Atlantic seaboard, we passed a car, and he nodded his head toward it, deadpanning, “Those’re Dead Heads.” Strange the way that sort of thing sticks with you. But yeah, not a lot of story to stick to the ribs here.
The next step was part of the glorious rite of passage for most Gen X kids—Columbia House. And one of those 12 free was ’87’s In the Dark. “Touch of Grey?” An all-timer. “Hell in a Bucket?” Not bad! “West L.A. Fadeaway,” same. You’d have never gotten me to admit it back then, but that slinky groove was fantastic. The rest I couldn’t describe if my life depended on it.
Within a year or two, my divorce from pop radio was finalized, and I cannonballed into the world of college radio. The Grateful Dead? Are you kidding me? Hard pass. Even if I was into ’em on principle, their brand of blues and Americana wasn’t in my wheelhouse…Yet. It was a nonstarter. The whole thing just seemed like a caricature. When I would see flashes of normalcy—Weir wearing Vaurnets or drummer Bill Kreutzmann wearing a sports jersey—these felt more like cracks in the fourth wall than anything else. If you want an idea of how my brain works, that last sentence is a good indicator.
It didn’t help that my high school was divided by sonic tribal identity, with very little crossover. Oil and water for sure. There were the occasional exceptions—turns out the possibility of getting high works great as an emulsifier—but by and large those red lines held. People super into the Dead were not the same people I was seeing at hardcore shows.
Flash forward a few years, and I find myself listening… and it’s not terrible? I never got to see the band play live, but they sure sound good at full blast as you’re barreling across the Mojave Desert, that much I can tell you. Maybe that’s all it took, but I was in. I can’t claim any sort of Deadhead status (or whatever). The best I can claim is a sort of fellow traveler status, and that’s probably good enough.
The records all grew on me. Distilled down, a lot of them work great as pop songs. I don’t mean that as a “hot take,” but it’s hard to ignore when viewed through a structural lens. Chris’s point above is well taken (and I love the typo- was it intentional? The internet never tells). They don’t ramble off into Neverland. There’s no 15-minute walkabouts—those were saved for the stadiums. Speaking of which, in my world, the live shows went from fodder for inside jokes between friends to half-serious conversations about the pros/cons of various shows.
When we’d get a loaner car with Sirius, I’d find myself turning the dial to channel 23 more often than not. Eighteen-year-old me wouldn’t have recognized that sentence. At all.
In 2026, we’re longing for community and IRL experiences. Dead Heads have been doing that for decades. No blue screens, and the only “content” being created was via a tape recorder.
Last October, I got to go home and see my beloved Oregon Ducks play. I was excited to see my family and be back in Autzen (it never rains there, you see). The promo tie-in was Dead-themed. Anytime I go home, it’s good for 10 points off my blood pressure, but being in the stands with my kids and family made it even more so. As they played various tracks, I thought, “This rules.” That’s absolutely something 18-year-old me would’ve recognized.
As “Althea” rang out, somebody mentioned it being their favorite, and I thought about what mine might be. “Althea’s” there, I ‘spose. “Friend of the Devil,” too. My lunchbox has a Shakedown Man sticker. “Touch of Grey” makes a good case. I know that’ll raise some hackles. “West L.A. Fadeaway” as well. No deep-cut picks this time—I still don’t know any.
Speaking of the team, I was wearing my “Grateful Ducks” sweatshirt when their season came to an inglorious end last Friday. My usual lucky shirt, too. But even that wasn’t enough to stop the mighty IU. I wonder what the Dead think of such things? Maybe at this point there’s nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile.
The next day on Bluesky, someone mentioned hearing the band during the Rams game, and that was how they learned of Weir’s passing. Reading their post was how I learned. The song? “West L.A. Fadeaway,” of course…
Members of the band stop by to discuss their latest record and what’s next.
Photo: Katy McElroy
Good morning!
We’re in for a treat today! Members of Winged Wheel—one of my fave discoveries of the last few years stop by to chat.
The pitch: An “experimental super-band” comprised of Whitney Johnson (Matchess, Circuit des Yeux), Cory Plump (Spray Paint, co-owner of the dream venue Tubby’s), Matthew J. Rolin (solo guitar wizard and half of the Powers/Rolin Duo), Steve Shelley (Sonic Youth), Lonnie Slack (Water Damage), and Fred Thomas (Idle Ray, Tyvek), Winged Wheel is a creatively and geographically scattered collective, with each player living in a different city and bringing their own unique element to the group’s interpersonal alchemy.
The first record (2022’s No Island) was a product of file trading, with each band member living in a different city and sending in their own part to be assembled later. The result: a record they describe as “accidentally really good” (my take: yes), with its high-voltage kosmische-meets-jam-band vibes. 2024’s Big Hotel was one of my sleeper picks for AOTY, with “Sleeptraining” easily one of my most-played tracks.
When I first heard a new record was inbound, I was excited. As each single rolled out, that excitement only grew. A few weeks ago, I mentioned that I was going to be obnoxious about it, but also wondered whether the record would live up to whatever bar I’d set in my head. Spoiler: it totally does. In last week’s Sound Advice column, I wrote “[where] intensity is still very much there, with layers of synths, walls of noise, and unfamiliar sounds. The band has mentioned trying to balance excitement and tension, and it shows. Things move a little slower here, and the hits come a little harder.”
I ended that piece by noting Desert So Green“is yet another evolution from a collective that has made that their stock-in-trade. It’s not always the easiest listen, but for those who make the effort, the payoff is enormous.”
Having listened to it a bunch since then, I’d only double down on that assessment.
I recently had a chance to chat with band members Fred Thomas and Matthew Rolin via email. In our wide-ranging discussion, we talked about the band’s origin story, the record, and what’s coming next. Our chat has only been lightly edited for grammar and flow.
KA—
Congrats on the new record! Can you walk us through the backstory of how this project came together?
Fred Thomas: It’s been a very unusual path! The easiest way to explain the band is as a series of unexpected outcomes. It started as a remote recording project when everyone was locked down heavy in 2020, and that unexpectedly resulted in a really interesting first album, 2022’s No Island. When shows started happening again, Cory asked Steve if he’d want to sit in with us. He said he’d be down, which was unexpected, and we all got together in person to record the jams and ideas that became 2024’s Big Hotel. I think after that recording session, none of us really expected to play live, but we quickly started touring and operating like a traditional band, even though we all live in different places and come together around the conceptual entity of Winged Wheel.
Big Hotel was the on-ramp for many people. What should they expect this time around?
FT: The only goal we had for making the new record was that it be completely different than the last. Where Big Hotel was cauterized together from hours of jams and searching, Desert So Green was collectively designed in the studio, with structure and composition playing a much larger role. It’s still the result of searching, but there’s a lot more group intention here.
Matthew Rolin: If Big Hotel was the on-ramp, then I would say Desert So Green is reaching a foreign, yet familiar, place. You’re not sure if you are close to the destination yet, but you’ve just stumbled across something that is interesting enough to stop and check out.
Desert So Green is described as an album that spends its duration struggling to balance a scale with excitement on one side and anxious tension on the other. Say more, please.
FT: Listening to the album, it might be difficult to pin down exactly how it makes you feel at any given moment. There are pretty parts, but they’re always a little bit shaky. There’s sections of peaceful drone, but fried undercurrents are always there, too. Nothing fully resolves, and it’s almost like the songs stubbornly don’t allow themselves to be just punky rippers or meditative zoners, or anything singular. Whatever dominant energy is present, its agitated foil is always nearby.
MR: That’s life (mine at least). As far as how it relates to the music, I take it as this ever-present undercurrent that gets under your skin. Even the prettiest songs on the album have some of what I’m talking about. Sometimes it’s drones, sometimes it’s sharp, unfamiliar noises, but they are always there to add to the song and maybe mess a little with expectations.
I can hear a few different artists that might’ve been an influence, and everyone here has an impressive CV. That said, were there any specific bands informing the sound?
FT: We’re all huge music listeners and absorbers, so specific influences would be next to impossible to list. That said, while we were making the record, we all noticed there were some accidental similarities to Slint’s Spiderland here and there. That wasn’t so much an intentional homage as something that showed up once the dust settled and was interesting to observe.
MR: Like what Fred said, we all listen to probably too much music, so it’s impossible to pin it even on a dozen bands/artists. That being said, this time I found our CAN-style approach to recording to be tightened up. For Big Hotel, we just hit record and let it rip. This time, various members contributed demos and ideas beforehand, so we had a skeleton to fill out while in the studio.
For anyone new to Winged Wheel, what’s the one thing you hope they walk away with?
FT: Each of our three records so far has had wildly different tonalities and sound worlds while remaining somewhat connected to a blurry type of grand vision. Desert So Green is the most restrained and layered Winged Wheel album yet, so it would be great if listeners could tune into some of the deeper waves and movement that happened in the recording this time around.
MR: I hope they can see how amazed we all are that this band even exists. We are all playing music that I don’t think anyone in the band would come up with alone. A true collaboration!
By the time people read this, you will be touring Europe. Besides Big Ears at the end of March, are there any plans for stateside shows?
FT: Things keep on coming up unexpectedly, so it’s very likely there will be more on the books soon. As of this moment, however, nothing is planned past Big Ears.
Last one, just for fun; I bump into you as you walk out of the record store. What records are you carrying?
FT: Each member of the band would be carrying a completely different selection, and it wouldn’t make even a shred of sense to anyone outside of the Winged Wheel bubble. There’d be some Cumbia records, some Bakersfield-style country, a Beatles rarities box set, some microtonal organ music, and probably a Velvet Underground bootleg as well.
MR: As someone who just moved several times in the last few years… I am carrying the money I just got from selling my entirely too large and too heavy record collection and walking straight to the chiropractor.
Listen:
Winged Wheel | Desert So Green (2026)
Right-click the record to listen via Bandcamp.
Desert so Green is out now via 12XU. You can grab your copy here.
Some thoughts on community, curation, and why indie writing matters more than ever
My dad’s last job was in what we would today call “IT.” For a while, he was on the hardware side, and our garage was full of boxes from long-lost brands like Leading Edge. While on the software side, we got to see games that today seem primitive, but back then seemed revolutionary.
LOGO? Sure, laugh now, but man, that turtle was f’ing something. Ditto the original Oregon Trail game—who knew dying of dysentery could be fun? For a minute, we had an Apple IIe. This also coincided exactly with how long I was cool at school. I’m sure it was a coincidence. His final project before he passed was a program that pulled together your frequent flier miles, applied each airline’s award rules, and showed how close you were to any given redemption—so you could book your next trip with whatever carrier made the most sense. Today, we’d call that an app, and probably one you’d learn to build in a 200-level class.
That idea—aggregating value across fragmented systems so people can make better choices—has stayed with me. Because in a small, non-technical way, that’s what this project is trying to do too.
It’s a miracle, this internet. For as much as words like doomscrolling and digital decay have now become regular parts of the discourse, nothing else has done more to slip the surly bonds of geography and let people find one another around shared interests, values, and obsessions. Yes, it’s often weaponized, but it’s just as frequently used as a force for good—whether that’s organizing pro-democracy rallies or yapping about records. All of it would look like science fiction to people just a few short years ago.
This time of year is flooded with lookbacks and lists, but if you’ll indulge me for a second, I wanted to take one last glance before we start looking ahead this Saturday.
This community continues to grow in new and exciting ways. Its success is due to readers like you. Thank you for making it what it is. Thank you for sharing it on social media and with your friends and family. If you’re sharing it with your enemies, well, thanks for that, too.
Whether you’ve been here since Day 1, just recently showed up, or this is the first post of mine you’ve ever read, I’m glad you’re here. And if you’re up at 7 AM on New Year’s Day? More power to you!
Some red meat for the data wonks:
Because of your recommendations, On Repeat Records is read in 48 states (2024 resolution: get North Dakota and Wyoming on board; 2025 resolution: try again; 2026: third time’s a charm?!) and 71 countries worldwide. There are a lot more of us here than there were a year ago at this time, but the vibe still seems to be “the coolest dinner party you’ve ever been to.” One 2026 goal: keep that goin’. These missives land in inboxes as close as literally just down the block and as far away as New Zealand. That never ceases to amaze me and is incredibly humbling.
The numbers are interesting and prove there is an appetite for sharing the music we love with people, subverting algorithms, and supporting indie music journalism. Metrics are fun to discuss, but wouldn’t mean much without engagement.
The conversations—especially the ones in the comment sections that go far off into the weeds—are a highlight of every week. Same with the stories you share directly with me. I appreciate the feedback and love hearing the role certain records have played in your life. I read every one and try to respond as quickly as possible. That door is always open. Please use it.
This was also the year that I finally got hit with a few “stick to music” responses and performative unsubscribes. So be it. It’s a reminder that there are people on both sides of the glass. Most folks are here for hot takes on cool records, but once in a while, there will be a wildcard essay from a middle-aged guy trying to make sense of the world around him (spoiler: that guy is me).
Rather than list everything month by month, here are a few moments that felt representative of the year:
We took a rocket into space and got a chance to chat with Gelli Haha, among others.
Cool people doing cool shit? Yes please! This place is bursting with incredible talent. And I’m 110% here for it. This list barely scratches the surface. We’ll be doubling down on that in ’26.
Through it all, the throughline was community.
We don’t do ads or sponsored content here. There is no media team or marketing, either. It’s just Gizmo and me spreading the word about good records (and warning you away from bad ones).
That only works because of reader support. Paid supporters have full access to the entire archive, but more importantly, that revenue is the jet fuel that keeps this project in the air. Your support, shares, and recommendations all make an immediate, positive impact and keep this place independent.
I also want to again thank every guest writer, collaborator, and co-conspirator from the past year. If you recognize yourself in that sentence, thank you for trusting me with your work. And to the few of you I got to meet in real life, know that those moments were genuine high points of the year. More of that in ’26, please!
We’ve talked about a lot of records and covered a lot of ground. I hope you’ve found a new favorite or two, and a new favorite spot on the internet. Life’s better with records in it and people to share ’em with.
2025 was a meaningful year for On Repeat Records, and 2026 is already looking bright. Thanks for being a part of it.
Good morning! Need an antidote for the algorithms? Looking for a place to share the music you love with like-minded people? You’re in the right spot.
For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.
As always, thank you to those who have recently upgraded their subscriptions. Your direct support fuels this community and makes a positive impact. Shares and reposts also help!
When you’re ready, joining them is easy. Just click here:
Welcome to dead week, everyone! The liminal space where nothing really happens unless you’re in the resolution business, in which case it’s peak season. Maybe you have 1–2? I don’t, other than the boringly boilerplate ones like “eat better,” and “listen to more records.” The smart money says I’ll go 1-for-2. You can probably guess which is which. Later this week we’ll take a look both back at the decade that was 2025, and forward to 2026. In the meantime, here’s some tracks that have been in heavy rotation here at the house. Hopefully these’ll sound good on the trail or treadmill.
I was having a discussion with a friend about bands that often get lost in the discussion when talking about any given scene, and that led me down a Cabaret Voltaire rabbit hole (yes, they’re from Sheffield, yes I’m counting it as Manchester). There was also a lot of album playing over the last few days, and that’s reflected in some deeper cuts throughout the list. I feel like I missed the boat on J Brekkie this year. For Melancholy Brunettes (& Sad Women) never really landed with me, yet every time I hear a track off the record, it’s my new favorite. Guess that’s how it goes sometimes.
“Monie in the Middle” might stick out here, but is one that pops into my head every now and again and stays for a few days. The Big Audio Dynamite and Let’s Active tracks are old favorites from new (to me) records picked up last week at a benefit event for our local LW FM station, WVMO. “Stimulation” is an older track from a new (to me) band, Preoccupations. Tbh, I think they would’ve fit right in on a bill with some of the Manchester bands of old.
We spent a lot of time with Kitchens of Distinction as part of the “Best Record of 1989” bracket challenge. This one’s from ‘91, and the next bracket is for ‘01, which is a bit of a blind spot for me. Maybe that should be my resolution? We can workshop it. In the meantime, Milwaukee’s represented here with Collections of Colonies of Bees. Spotlighting more Wisco bands is definitely on order for the new year, as is finding more new-to-me stuff like Air Miami.
KA–
P.S. A few of you have asked if I sequence these as if they’re an album or mixtape. The answer is always “yes.” In my head, I imagine them being played on your morning commute or road trip. I’m too old to use the word “vibes” as much as I have lately, but, well, if the shoe fits…
This week, side A is tracks 1-16, with Side B being 17-27.
What caught your ear this week? Any new releases or tickets to shows for Christmas/Hanukkah/ Boxing Day? Do you make any end-of-year lists or resolutions? If so, please share below!
The 3rd Annual On Repeat & Friends Best Records of 2025
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at our Top Albums of 2025
We’re back!
By almost any metric, 2025 wasn’t great. The universe didn’t send us its best. But if we’re talking about records—and we are—this was a banner year. For every stain on the landscape (Daniel Ek, the Velvet Sundown), there were countless counterpoints: music that doubled down on what we love, and artists unafraid to cover new ground.
I sometimes get asked if I ever worry that I’ll run out of records to write about. My answer is always a polite version of, “Are you kidding me?!” That might happen at some point, but the biggest hurdle in 2025 was finding enough time to cover all the records I wanted to. I thought for sure I’d have figured out how to do that by now. Nope. Maybe next year.
The list below represents what I consider the best the year had to offer. These were the records that consistently fed my ears and lit up my brain. For fans of semantics, we can swap in/out terms like “best,” “favorite,” etc.—dealer’s choice.
The ultimate barometer is this: if we were at a diner after a show and you channeled your inner Rob Gordon and asked me what records I’d recommend, these would be the ones I pitched.
For the past couple of years, Sam ColtSteve Goldberg and I have put together our annual favorites. There’s not a lot of overlap in taste, and that’s what keeps this so fun. I’m not blowing smoke when I say that I start looking forward to this group project in early fall.
When you’re done here, please head over to their pages and check out their takes!
Meet the co-conspirators
Sam Colt—Recovering copywriter and author of This Is A Newsletter!—a consistently hilarious, biting chronicle of modern life and its indignities.
Sam’s List:
Rosalia- Lux
Clipse- Let God Sort ‘em Out
Deftones- Private Music
Geese- Getting Killed
billy woods- GOLLIWOG
Nourished by Time- The Passionate Ones
Wednesday- Bleeds
Panda Bear-Sinister Grift
FKA twigs- EUSEXUA
Stereolab- Instant Holograms on Metal Film
Read his full breakdown- including honorable mentions-here.
Steve Goldberg—Writes Earworms and Songloops, weaving personal essays with the songs that lodge themselves in your brain.
Steve’s Picks:
(alphabetical order)
Yazz Ahmed – A Paradise in the Hold
Amadou & Mariam – L’amour à la folie
The Antlers – Blight
The Besnard Lakes – The Besnard Lakes Are the Ghost Nation
Anna Von Hausswolff – Iconoclasts
Henge – Journey to Voltus B
Walt McClements – On a Painted Ocean
Midlake – A Bridge Too Far
Vines – I’ll Be Here
Youth Lagoon – Rarely Do I Dream
Check out Steve’s thoughts on his picks—and those that just missed the cut— here.
As in Part 2, some of these we’ve talked about before, and I’ve included excerpts from previous reviews. I like yapping about records, but the goal is—and remains—finding you a new favorite or two.
Also: All are Gizmo-approved:
Let’s get to it!
Immersion-WTF
My love for Wire is no secret, and the same holds true for frontman Colin Newman’s solo work. This year, that circle expanded to include Immersion, his project with partner Malka Spigel (formerly of Minimal Compact). They actually gifted us two releases this year (plus a collaboration with / reworking of a single by Dummy). Nanocluster Vol. 3, with SUSS, was gorgeous. WTF?? takes the best parts from all of those disparate pieces and blends them into something incredible.
From my original review:
The record kicks off with “Defiance,” an instrumental that gets things off to a strong start with uptempo beats but refuses to plant its flag in either camp: not synth, not pop, not really anything but itself. Immersion—and Wire before them—thrive in these in-between zones, especially when they let the music do the talking. I tried to categorize their last record, Nanocluster Vol. 4, and failed spectacularly. I know better this time around.
“It’s a Long Way to Brooklyn” is a highlight, a track that doesn’t need words. But the whole thing opens up when they do. Spigel’s voice on “Timeline” is cool and almost detached, and Newman sidles in with a wry spoken-word counterpoint. Elsewhere, like on “Use It Don’t Lose It,” his trademark deadpan delivery turns a good track into a great one.
If this all sounds heavy, it is—and it isn’t. At least no more so than something like Talking Heads’ Life During Wartime was back in the day. David Byrne was singing about NYC’s Alphabet City, and Immersion is speaking on a much larger scale. Nevertheless.
WTF?? is an album about the constant, low-grade anxiety of modern life, and an era where current events have you saying “what the fuck?” several times before lunch.
Bob Mould- Here We Go Crazy
At my day job, one of my corollary duties is administering annual hearing exams and helping people find hearing protection that works for them. This is thanks to Bob Mould.
Husker Du’s New Day Rising hit me like a kick to the head and was never played at less than full volume. I liked it that way and loved his power trio, Sugar. To this day, it’s still the loudest show I’ve ever been to. I used to find that post-show ringing in my ears a weird badge of honor. When it was still there after day two, I started to worry. My hearing rebounded (sort of), which marked the point when I no longer cared how uncool I looked wearing earplugs at shows. But Mould hasn’t quieted down. He’s at his best when he’s at full throttle, and on his 15th solo record, he delivers.
The opener, “Here We Go Crazy,” reminds listeners of the best parts of Sugar. “Fur Mink Augurs” and “Sharp Little Pieces” are equally intense. The songs come at you relentlessly: blast furnace chords, merciless drumming, and sometimes hard-to-understand vocals (especially for those with hearing difficulties). When you listen closely, they often touch on challenging subjects—it would be easy for a sound like this to wear down even the strongest among us. Yet Mould consistently shows us a bit of light (heh).
Here We Go Crazy isn’t exhausting; it’s invigorating. It’s a breath of fresh air at a time when we need it more than ever. Play it loud; just remember to limit your exposure and keep in mind that the most effective hearing protection is the kind you’ll actually wear.
Hayley Williams– Ego Death at a Bachelorette Party
I know you’ve already seen a bazillion reviews of this record, so let me save us all some time by just saying: “same!” But before you go play it, I want to add that I love how this record was released. Last year, Cindy Lee’s Diamond Jubilee drew raves for not being streamable and for being available only on YouTube and a specific website. Williams followed suit (sort of) by releasing the tracks via her website—no tracklist, no problem.
This is her first outing as an independent artist, and if that’s not doing things on your own terms (while raising a middle finger to those who got rich off your talent for decades), well, I don’t know what is. Williams—and, to an extent, Paramore—have always shapeshifted stylistically, but here that impulse is taken to another level, with wonderful results. Still, in my opinion, she truly shines when she leans all the way into old-school pop, like “Good Ol’ Days.”
Do the kids still refer to songs as “bops”? Because this is a bop—and a perfect example of her incredible talent.
Ryan Davis & The Roadhouse Band- New Threats from the Soul
Over the last few months, there’s been a trend in “bigger” publications to tout Americana as the latest new thing, as if it just popped out of the ether—as if Waxahatchee (or whoever) suddenly sparked a whole-ass genre. That’s obviously not true. What’s actually happening is that people are slowly discovering artists and bands who have been there, putting in the miles for years.
I can’t claim any sort of moral high ground or expertise here. As noted in my initial review, “until not too long ago I was a dues-paying member of the ‘anything but country’ club”—a broad brush that also treated folk and Americana as collateral damage. As usual, I’m late to the party, but I’m happy to be here now.
That said, how do you not fall for a record that casually namechecks A Tribe Called Quest, Peg Bundy, and Betty Rubble before the first chorus even hits?
And then a line like this comes in and stops you cold:
“You can see the kingdom from the tailgate
If you stack a couple coolers, but you’re never gonna see it from the front of the line”
Maybe college football has cooked my brain, but damn, that’s my kind of wordsmithing. Again, we’re not even through the opening track here!
Speaking of which, these sound radio-friendly but are absolutely not built for the airwaves—the shortest track here clocks in at 5:55. That’s fine by me. Morgan Wallen and co. can have the chart space and radio spots. This is a record suited for back roads, sitting on the porch, or in your favorite bar on a cool summer evening.
With New Threats…, Davis and the Roadhouse Band tip their hat to Americana while bringing new energy. It’s not easy to sound brand-new and 100 years old at once, but they walk that tightrope well here (absolutely NOT derogatory). It’s music that understands the lay of the land, respects it, and is cool with adding its own take. It’s the sort of thing that will convert skeptical listeners like me sooner rather than later.
Nourished by Time- The Passionate Ones
When I was in high school, my girlfriend was very much into R&B, and I was very much… not. We landed at a kind of musical détente, where we’d swap who got to control the music based on a very blurry set of criteria that seemed to change with every trip. That said, there were a few “compromise” records that we both begrudgingly enjoyed.
The Passionate Ones reminds me of that same very narrow band of R&B from around 1988–92 that used to blast out of my tape deck. We spent a lot of that time dreaming, and on Marcus Brown’s latest, it feels like a love letter to the dreamers—the ones just trying to get by. It’s a bit of sonic reassurance that it’s okay to have your head in the clouds.
It might evoke memories of bands and days gone by, but it’s also really hard to pigeonhole. Sure, R&B fits, but so do experimental and dance. Brown takes us on a ride and isn’t afraid to go off on a tangent or two. And there are earworms, and…
…and in a world where slop like Velvet Sundown becomes a thing, it’s nice to know there are still some things Suno just ain’t going to be able to copy. In my totally objective, not-at-all-blurry rubric for what makes a great record, originality is part of the calculus. And in that category, The Passionate Ones is off the charts.
There are no compromises on this LP, but I’d like to think it would absolutely qualify as a compromise record.
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Have you ever been to Wendover, Nevada? If not, it’s a border town that’s a little worse for wear. Not quite a Temu-brand Vegas, but it’s close. It’s transient by nature, and melancholy and hard luck seem to be the only permanent residents.
In my head, this is the sort of place where Dan Bejar—aka Destroyer—would have a standing gig as a lounge singer. The songs are great, but the louche persona he’s built feels like a perfect fit. On 2011’s synth-pop masterpiece Kaputt, he talked about doing coke and all sorts of other midlife debauchery.
New iterations came via subsequent records like Poison Season and have reached their peak (or bottom?) with Dan’s Boogie. It feels like the end of the road for a guy with nothing left to lose—the sort of entertainer who still thinks “the act” has some life left in it, even if that means playing to a midday crowd of four or five disinterested truckers. The whole thing has a morning-after vibe, literally and figuratively, as if Bejar is in on the joke and no longer worries whether you’ll “get” his free association and poetry.
…and it’s fantastic.
Ultimately, places like Wendover are a great place to study the human condition—the wins, the losses, the beautiful, and the ugly. Sometimes they’re just a great place to get off the road and into some cheap food. Dan’s Boogie encompasses all of that. I honestly don’t know where Bejar goes from here, but I’m in no rush to get past this record.
Kathleen Edwards- Billionaire
One of the highlights of my week are our Monday discussions. Sure, I share a ton of picks with everyone, but I get WAY more in return. Occasionally, a record takes on a life of its own in the chat, and comments about it stretch over the course of a few weeks. This, of course, is a very loud signal that maybe, you know, you should check the record out? That happened with Billionaire, and man, am I glad I paid attention!
I originally noted
It didn’t take me long to get why people are so excited about this record. In fact, it took about 30 seconds of the opener “Save Your Soul.” I found myself nodding enthusiastically and saying, “Okay, then!” The line “Line your pockets with gold… Who’s gonna save your soul/When your money’s no good.” feels like a question a LOT of people should be asking themselves in 2025. And just in case Jason Isbell doesn’t already have enough fans here in the community, the solo on this track rips.
That was followed by “Say Goodbye, Tell No One,” one of those rare tracks whose gorgeous sound is a thin veneer over caustic lyrics. It’s incredible. I can almost guarantee someone’s going to use this to get through a bad breakup. They could do worse.
I also mentioned that if there was a weak link here, “I Need a Ride” was it. People told me to give it some time; maybe it would grow on me? Dear reader, that’s exactly what happened. And if Isbell wasn’t enough, towards the end, Shelby Lynne and Allison Moorer stop by to add some vocals.
Gelli Haha- Switcheroo
Where do I start with a record described by a fan as “…like Kate Bush meets Suburban Lawns, and it is pretty good!“? Switcheroo is what happens when an artist starts out making folk music, moves to LA, connects with a producer, and makes the pivot of a lifetime. Along the way, Angel Abaya ditched her legal name, adopted the Gelli Haha persona, and proceeded to make one of the most unhinged records of 2025.
Imagine your favorite dream pop band grabbing a copy of The B-52s’ Whammy! on the way to the launch pad, taking off, and crash-landing in an electroclash warehouse party in the coolest part of the galaxy.
Switcheroo is ecstatic. It’s aspirational and absurd in equal measure. It’s awesome. In other words, it’s perfect for this moment. Speaking with Abaya earlier this year, I asked how this project came to be. Her answer?
“Gelli Haha is a project born through curiosity. I wanted to create something that was fun and moved people physically and emotionally. Fun music to dance to, something mystical, and enchanting and silly.”
Mission accomplished.
In that same piece, I said,
Maybe it’s just me, but here’s something liberating about how this album refuses to care what you think. It’s not just theatrical—it’s maximalist identity performance with zero fucks given apologies. Gelli Haha isn’t aiming for relatability; she’s too busy being a pop gremlin, and tbh, that rules. The whole project feels like a rejection of our (collective) obsession with being “real,” that’s often ripping through the usual music discourse channels. Instead, she turns her persona into a playground—and lets you run wild with it.
Switcheroo is weird, hilarious, and absolutely unhinged—and it might be the most fun I’ve had with a record all year. Listening makes joy feel like a radical act- a rare treat in the current era. Once you’re in the Gelliverse, you may never want to leave. I certainly don’t.
Fust-Big Ugly
From November:
Fust is the latest to corner the market on the sort of storytelling Drive-By Truckers and Wussy have mastered. On Big Ugly, the band’s third album, they’ve hit critical mass. Real stories about real people, just tryin’ to get through the day. It’s the world of hard-working folks, hours under a vicious sun, and well-lit places. In this case, 24-hour gas stations out by the highway. It’s always strange to me, a child of suburbia, and a man that’s spent 49(ish) of his 50 years living above the Mason-Dixon line, to be so fascinated with the stories from the South. I don’t know what it is, but it’s always been a goldmine for storytelling. Even the nomenclature follows this pattern: Big Ugly is an area in West Virginia. And like the state, it’s an odd name for a beautiful thing — or in this case, specifically, a record from a North Carolina–based band.
“Spangled” kicks things off with a story of a repossessed hospital and helping a friend. And if that’s not a track for today, I’m not sure what is. It’s also a banger with no shortage of guitars, piano, and pedal steel. It’s purpose-built for rippin’ a heater and thinkin’ about things as you whiz down your nearest moonlit back road.
“Mountain Language” is another swaggering track with fuzzy riffs and lines like:
You can’t even find work at the Country Boy Selling gas station drugs To take care of your sister Dallas She’s a little, little older than us She’s a little older than us
This is a masterclass in telling the stories of the people who live in places Yankees rarely go, and of values we can all relate to. The record ends the same way it begins — with a story of collapse when Aaron Dowdy tells us on the way out that he’s blacking out from living.
Big Ugly is a mix of ballads and rockers, but truly shines on the latter. Dowdy isn’t afraid to paint an unvarnished picture of real life, but does so in a way that never feels condescending. The characters here feel like his people, not caricatures built for peddling records. This is a world progress often leaves behind, but like an abandoned school bus slowly being consumed by kudzu, there is grace and beauty in the decay.
I keep trying to find new things to say about this record, but my quiver of superlatives only holds so many arrows, ya know?
Preoccupations- Ill at Ease
Ill at Ease is certainly not something you’ll be blasting on your boat as you and the crew knock back tall boys. It’s icy in spots and apocalyptic in others. One song mentions centrifuges. Does Van Halen sing about centrifuges? Dear reader, they do not.
Oh, and it will sometimes make you want to dance (probably on land).
When Women broke up in 2012, the Flegel brothers went their separate (musical) ways. Patrick morphed into Cindy Lee, whose Diamond Jubilee record was on just about every AOTY there is last year. Matt and bandmate Mike Wallace went on to form the core of Viet Cong. That name was thankfully changed for a whole host of obvious reasons, and Preoccupations came to be.
Ill at Easeis the band’s fifth record, and arguably their most accessible. It’s a post-punk record, but it’s as pop as anything Psychedelic Furs or The Sound ever put out. On a more contemporary note, I kept drawing a line to The Helio Sequence. For absolutely no reason at all, the record’s “Andromeda” reminds me of “Keep Your Eyes Ahead.” While I’m at it, Flegel’s almost raspy vocals will evoke comparison to The Fur’s Richard Butler’s.
None of this is a liability. In fact, it’s all in the plus column for me. There has been some chatter that this record is too pat, too polished compared to their previous releases. I am not in that camp. Sure, there are a points where I miss that earlier volatility, but I like my post-punk dance-y, and this delivers for days. “Andromeda” and “Focus” have been battling it out for my fave track of the year, and several others make a good case for being shortlisted as well.
Get in, we’re listening to the soundtrack to the apocalypse.
A few more incredible records I’d recommend in a second:
Stereolab — Instant Holograms on Metal Film: The data goblins at Spotify tell me my most-played song in 2025 was “Ping Pong,” off the band’s 1994 record Mars Audiac Quintet. Such is the staying power Stereolab enjoys that, three decades on, I’m still playing the records—and so are a whole lot of other people. Will this one have the same longevity? It’s Stereolab! I wouldn’t be against it.
Sextile — Yes, Please: One of my “old man yells at cloud” complaints is that techno—er, EDM—er, dance music has started to over-index on glitches and bleeps and bloops. There’s nothing wrong with that (see Stereolab), but sometimes I want big bass, a little sweat, and some weapons-grade hedonism. The lyrics flit between existential and immediate, but if I’m honest? I’m here for the beats. And they never stop coming. Incredible record that takes you right back to those nights that didn’t even get started until 10:30 p.m. Listen again? Yes, please.
Andy Bell — Pinball Wanderer: This year, we got records from Erasure’s Andy Bell and the former Ride frontman of the same name. A real “Oh, we got both kinds. We got Country and Western” moment. This one is from the latter Andy and is a fantastic ride into space. The record’s cover of the Passions’ 1981 track “I’m in Love With a German Film Star” is worth the price of admission alone.
Avery Friedman — New Thing: Writing this record up last spring, I quipped: “I am convinced someone, somewhere, decided that any promo email had to include either ‘pedal steel’ or ‘indie folk’ in the description. It feels like a bit of PR Mad Libs or refrigerator-magnet poetry gone wrong…those two phrases are as ubiquitous as UPCs on the records they’re trying to move.”…which said PR rep then posted on social media. Lol. Oops. It was all taken in stride, and why not? I loved the record, and Friedman made it easy. On the title track, Friedman tells us: “It’s a little bit of a new thing / It’s a little hard to predict / And I can’t quite describe it / But it’s like a magnet flipped.” Honestly, I can’t think of a better way to sum up this record than that. This album fades in and out—sometimes it feels like the light of midday; other times like a fever dream or fuzzy memories struggling to make it out of the back of one’s mind. I closed that first review by stating, “It’s not PR spin when I tell you that’ll be a contender for a spot on my AOTY list.” And, well, here we are.
Die Spitz — Something to Consume: My elevator pitch for this Austin-based quartet has always been simple: Die Spitz is the Gen Z equivalent of L7. To be clear, that’s meant as high praise. They’re fast, loud, and have something to say—and exactly zero Fs to give. Ava Schrobilgen, Chloe De St. Aubin, Eleanor Livingston, and Kate Halter also happen to be talented musicians. Their 2023 record was centered around “Hair of Dog,” one of my favorite tracks of the year, and the EP quickly found its way onto my Best of 2023 list. It set the stage for Something to Consume. Almost a rough draft, if you will. That’s not to say this record has the edges sanded off—it absolutely doesn’t—but it’s clear the group has worked to evolve from those early beginnings.
And that’s a wrap! Any of your favorites on this list? What should be on here? I’d love to hear your thoughts. Sound off in the comments, and let me know!
Another round of breakthrough releases, long-awaited returns, and under-the-radar surprises—from Patterson Hood to Deep Sea Diver—that shaped the year in music.
Good morning!
Today we’re taking a look at part two of On Repeat Records’ Top Albums of 2025
We’re back with part two of On Repeat’s picks as the best records of 2025 so far. If you missed Part 1,you can check it outhere.
Some of these we’ve talked about before, and I’ve included excerpts from previous reviews and links to the full(er) ones if you’d like to check ’em out. Things’ll wrap up next week when I’ll join Sam Jami and Steve for our Best Records of 2025 Extravaganza. It’ll be the best “Best Of” recap you read this year. Okay, so that’s a little hyperbolic, but in these trying times we’re allowed some license, no? Really, I’m just stoked that I get to join them again for another go. I think you’ll dig it too.
Anyway.
I’ve touched on how music discovery has changed a lot lately, and to state the obvious, the Internet has helped all of us gain access to records we might otherwise never have heard. There are pros and cons to that, but in aggregate, I think our lives are richer for it. Some of these records came via word of mouth, but a lot of them came from places that would’ve felt like something out of a sci-fi novel not all that long ago. Zines? Sure, but I can only imagine 20-year-old me looking askance at someone talking about “Discord Servers” or Bandcamp.
In my head, I’m still that over-caffenated, excitable guy at the table at Quality Pie, Sharis, or wherever, playing hype man for any given record. I’m a card-carrying suburban dad now, but I hope that’s the vibe that comes through on these lists.
There’s a little bit of everything here—that’s just how I’m wired. I’m happy to talk about the ersatz rubric I tell myself I use when evaluating any release, but the common denominator is this: If it made the list, I found it exceptional. Once these found their way to my ears, they rarely left heavy rotation. Some kept me awake serenaded me on my 3:30 AM commute; others helped make Saturday mornings more enjoyable. Almost without exception, I think I’ve made a solid case for why you’ll dig these (you’ll just have to trust me with Deep Sea Diver). I hope so, anyway. I like yapping about records, but the goal is—and remains—finding you a new favorite or two.
Now on to the music…
Patterson Hood-Exploding Trees & Airplane Screams
All good things in time. It’s taken Hood a dozen(ish) years to follow up Heat Lightning Rumbles in the Distance, but it’s worth the wait. Hood, of course, has a second job as co-founder of The Drive-By Truckers keeping him busy.
His fourth solo record finds him in a reflective spot and revisiting his past. For example, the gorgeous, spare opener “Exploding Trees” is about a storm he experienced as a kid. He’s also brought friends along for the ride, including fellow Alabaman Waxahatchee, Wednesday, and Kevin Morby. On Repeat fave Lydia Loveless joins him on “A Werewolf and a Girl.”
This is an intentionally (?) low-key record made by a guy at a point in life where there’s is plenty of “past’ to mine. Records like this are hard to pull off, but Hood hits the right marks here.
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For those of you who are new, we kick off every week by sharing what we’ve been playing, and the playlist below is some of what’s been in heavy rotation for me.
The season of lists is now upon us. Christmas lists… AOTY lists… book lists… to-do lists… and if you’re in one of the flyover states, snow-closure lists. As the resident playlist dealer, it’s no secret that I love a good list—especially when it’s in the form of a mixtape. Today’s playlist reflects a bit of all of those. Avery Friedman’s New Thing was not a record I was expecting to like, but here we are. “Photo Booth” is a fave on an LP packed with them. “Automatic Love” was another revelation and feels like it’d be as at home on a 1991 best-R&B list as it does today (not derogatory). Immersion has shown up a lot this year, and don’t be surprised if they do again before we’re done with 2025.
The algorithm goblins at Spotify tell me that Stereolab’s “Ping Pong” was my most played this year, and honestly I’m not mad about it. Nothing says “2025” like a song that makes you dance while singing about economic collapse. Don’t worry, be happy. Things will get better naturally. We should be so lucky.
From there, we move to 808 State—which was one of my favorites of 1991—a little Wishy, and a nice return for De La Soul (don’t call it a comeback). Die Spitz, The Dead Milkmen, and Swervedriver make for a nice three-piece. We cool off a bit with Helene Barbier and Water from Your Eyes (another revelation), before a quick blitz of old faves/sonic comfort food. I’ve previously raised some hackles by saying that R.E.M.’s Out of Time ranks as one of their best, but I stand by it. I also put “Me in Honey” at the top of their closers. What do you think?
I didn’t have a new one by Madison friends Gentle Brontosaurus on my radar, but they gifted us one just the same. “Luxury Bones” is another one where serious—and timely—lyrics are supported by a jangly sound. If that’s a new name for you, get them on your gift list now. You won’t be disappointed!
What caught your ear this week? Any new releases or shows you’re looking forward to? Do you make any end-of-year lists? If so, have you started putting them together?
AOTY season kicks off with an all killer/no filler roundup of some of the year’s most noteworthy releases.
Good Morning!
Today we’re kicking off a 3- part series spotlighting the best releases 2025 had to offer.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Welcome to AOTY season.
It’s no secret that I believe hearing the right album at the right time can change your life. I could point to plenty of examples — and odds are good you can too — but the point is simple: music sticks when it meets you where you are.
I know I sound like a broken record (heh), but 2025 was once again an incredible time to be a music fan. The big station in your town might’ve been filling the airwaves with empty calories, but on the other end of the dial (and online), it was a completely different story. New artists were showing up daily. Older artists were too. Geese put out a great record, Goose put out a bunch.
It’s worth noting that in 2025, we saw releases from Madonna, Mekons, and 7 Seconds, plus live sets from Hüsker Dü and the Dream Syndicate. That doesn’t even touch the loads of reissues we were gifted this year (Lush, Unrest, etc.). Madge has a new record slated for 2026, and odds are good it’ll be on more than a few lists next December. Bob Mould’s still making records too — great news for music fans and hearing-aid manufacturers alike.
Part of what made this year interesting for me personally was a side project: I spent a good chunk of the year (re)listening to records from 1989 as part of a bracket challenge, and De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising made the final four. Their Cabin in the Sky came out less than four weeks ago — and IMO, it’s some of the best work they’ve ever put out. The only reason it’s showing up here today is that it’s so new (note on that below). The more things change…
Growing up, the “best of” lists were both easy to find and incredibly monolithic — self-appointed tastemakers dictated what we heard on the radio, and that was that. Light work, but homogenized. Consumption was a collective experience. If you want to figure out someone’s age, ask about AT40 or name-drop Rick Dees. The reaction will tell you everything. That’s obviously no longer the case, though looking at some early lists, you’d be excused for thinking otherwise. After working through a bunch, I saw the same titles cropping up again and again.
It’s not that I think those records are bad. I just know there are hundreds of others worth your attention. As I read each of these, I kept thinking, where are the rest?
And that’s where lists like this come in.
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Kevin Sent 
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