4 New Albums You Need: HAIM, Yaya Bey, Maxo, and more

I quit simmers in a gentler soundscape than HAIM’s acclaimed 2021 record Women In Music Pt. III. Ex-Vampire Weekend member Rostam fills in for former HAIM producer and Danielle Haim’s ex Ariel Rechstadt, and offers a defter touch; it’s evident in the project’s folkier breeze, grounded guitars, and hooks that take a while longer to wiggle under your skin and stay there — though they eventually make it there. In creating an album not so much about quitting definitively but moving on from a past that no longer serves you, HAIM sound liberated — from past cyclical habits and expectations to continue Sounding A Certain Way. On songs like “Gone,” a spry meshing of Golden-State folk and gospel, and “Lucky stars,” which swims with heavy guitar distortion. My favorite is “The farm,” the album’s country-hearted mid-point that find the sisters selling off a plot of land leaving an old lover. It has the breeziness of an unassuming clear day: one where you know things will be different tomorrow, but it’ll be all for the better. —Steffanee Wang

Hear it: Spotify | Apple Music

The latest stop on a run of excellent albums from Queens-born-bred-and-based singer-producer Yaya Bey is a joyful collection of 18 tracks tinged with jazz, soul, hip-hop, and soca, the sound of her family’s native Barbados. Kicking things off with the cheeky boom-bap track “wake up b*tch,” Bey casually establishes her slick but sharp-edged flow before sinking into the slinky R&B cut “end of the world,” backed by master fusioneers Butcher Brown with keys from Nigel Hall. The album hits its stride in earnest on “spin cycle,” a low-slung soul/soca blend about late rent, long hours, and life-changing love. She gets deeper into her soca bag on “merlot and grigio,” which features infectious ad libs from Barbadian artist and internet star Father Philis. There are songs here to play at the beach, on late-night drives, and at the club (though none hit quite as hard as last year’s “eric adams in the club”). At its core, it’s about finding humor, faith, and human connection in the darkest of times, and Bey has never been one to shy away from sharing her negative experiences. For the most part, though, do it afraid evokes breezy summer reveries, the kind we’ll all need to get us through the dog days this year. — Raphael Helfand

Hear it: Spotify | Apple Music | Bandcamp

One of the music videos that’s stuck with me the most this year is Maxo’s “Human ?” clip, directed by Vincent Haycock. Maxo is filmed from the inside of a moving car clinging to the windshield, mocked by two women inside. We don’t know what he did to find himself in such a desperate situation, but the equally visceral and raw song offers some hints: “And my momma know that I’m a little twisted / Took me this long just for me to listen / But I hear you,” Maxo raps in a casual, creaky flow. His latest project Mars Is Electric is an engrossing, spectral suite tracing the internal wars and external pleasures of toxic relationships, filled with crafty lyrics as dexterous as they are brutally honest. He’s as venomous as the snakes he’s decrying on the Project Pat-inflect title track, and by turns full of platitudes and wisdom on the project’s grooviest cut, “Matt’s House.” Elsewhere, the album boasts a range of deftly-handled styles, spanning from garage to Kanye-inspired soul to the clattering jazz-folk of closing track “Anything.” Even when things are out of Maxo’s control, he bends what he can to his will masterfully. — Jordan Darville

Hear it: Spotify | Apple Music

Up until last year, Hotline TNT was just [Will] Anderson and anyone who was free to spend several months on tour. But in the lead-up to writing and recording Raspberry Moon, the band’s lush, jangly third album, due for release on June 20 via Third Man Records, Anderson managed to finally seal his band both live and in the studio; it marks the first time that people other than Anderson contributed to writing new Hotline TNT songs. The result is the band’s most realized effort yet, an introspective and bittersweet reflection on endings and beginnings, of fulfilling loves and friendships. On Raspberry Moon, the stars have finally aligned. — Cady Siregar. Read our feature here.

Hear it: Spotify | Apple Music | Bandcamp

Isaiah Hull, whose work spans both poetry and music, describes his profession as ” stand-up tragedian.” That gallows humor is just one ingredient in POCOMANIA, a densely-layered exploration of Black British life that unfurls a lifetime of feeling across 26 tightly-packed minutes. Created alongside producer Kwes Darko, the album is heady and intellectual with allusions to Basquiat, Jamaican spiritual practices, and the trappings of a cash driven society lurking underneath sparse and glitchy beats. Hull rages inwards and out, seeking answers to colonialist questions (“Union Jack”) one moment and laying out his own paranoid mania (“Sweet Sweet”) the next. It makes for a bracing and uncompromising listen from a singular voice. The kind of album that can’t be ignored. — David Renshaw

Hear it: Spotify | Apple Music