New Music Friday: Stream projects from The Cure, Mount Eerie, BABYMONSTER, and more

Set to a thrilling combination of triumphant party raps and heavier, guitar-led tracks, Tyler, the Creator’s new album, Chromakopia, is a compendium of his most immediately pleasing modes. The rapper goes deeper into his family history and thoughts on his own fatherhood than ever before. “Noid,” the album’s Zamrocking lead single, marks a return to the therapist’s chair with Tyler sharing feelings of being trapped by fame and seeking to distance himself from ever having to pose for a selfie again. Panic is also felt on the pregnancy-scare narrative of “Hey Jane” which includes a voice note from his mother. She also appears on “Like Him,” on which Tyler worries he will repeat his father’s failings should he start a family. Seven albums deep is often a time when artists allow complacency to take hold. The fact that Tyler is still learning new things about himself ensures the ongoing examination of his psyche remains as fascinating as ever. —David Renshaw

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The Cure’s new album has been described as “haunting,” “nihilistic,” and “very, very doom and gloom.” And yet, today marks something of a celebration for goths worldwide who are finally able to listen to the band’s first new music in 16 years. That “doom and gloom” quote comes from frontman Robert Smith himself, whose pain at the loss of his brother is palpable on the album’s epic closer “Endsong.” Elsewhere, his despair is more widespread as he looks out on the world with anguish. “We tell each other lies to hide the truth,” he sings on “Warsong.” “Everything we do is shame, wounded pride, vengeful anger.” That’s the thing with taking nearly two decades between albums: You get older and more closely aligned with the end of things, be it family members or societal norms. Songs Of A Lost World casts its black veil across all of this, dredging up beauty from the murk like only The Cure can. —DR

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When BABYMONSTER debuted in 2023 as YG Entertainment’s newest K-pop girl group in seven years, industry insiders and fans alike deemed them to be BLACKPINK’s heir apparents. It’s clear, however, on the septet’s debut album, Drip, that they’re not simple copycats — and that’s a good thing. For one, the group’s seven members — Ahyeon, Asa, Rora, Rami, Ruka, Pharita, and Chiquita — organize themselves more like a cool cypher squad who can also turn out velvety R&B ballads and the occasional pop banger than glammed-up pop stars. On “CLIK CLAK,” they briskly trade bars about the way their heels clip on marble floors and their diamond tennis bracelets match. On “Love, Maybe,” they showcase their intricate harmonic abilities. “Forever,” however, is where the group’s unique and mighty range really reveals itself: Singing and rapping over a tumble of hyperpop-adjacent clashes and swelling hooks, they get the closest to proving the potential of their name. —Steffanee Wang

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In England’s Alderley Edge, steps away from the fabled resting grounds of King Arthur, lies a small outcropping of carved rock called the Wizard’s Well. There’s text concealed by centuries of moss and steady erosion: “Drink of this and take thy fill, for the water falls by the Wizard’s will.” Sadly, it’s likely a commemorative attraction created in the Victorian era rather than a relic of Britain’s mythic past, tapping our desire for a place beyond the veil to sell tickets. Throughout her career, Jennifer Castle has sought to cut out the noise of the modern world to touch some of those truths beyond the senses. Her seventh album, Camelot, is concerned with her soul’s parapets, battlements, and barbicans, and how they interact with her own Round Table. On some songs, she’s as direct as she’s ever been: The gently strummed folk of “Some Friends” mourns duplicity in those we love while “Trust” is feather-bound yet white-knuckled in its denunciations of inescapable hypocrisy. Castle doesn’t abandon her trademark impressionism, scattering ciphers across the songs like breadcrumbs that jump around and create their own trail. Owen Pallett and Cass McCombs feature, but make no mistake: This sounds like the most “Jennifer Castle” Jennifer Castle album yet. —Jordan Darville

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Phil Elverum’s newest album as Mount Eerie is in many ways a return from the dark, stark realism of his last few records to the vast poetry of his earlier work. Full of fire, lightning, rain, wind, and fog, the 26 tracks on this 81-minute double LP search for eternity in these familiar subjects and the quotidian efforts he spent his last three albums painstakingly documenting. On “Broom of Wind,” for instance, he’s the sweeper, the broom, the object being swept up, and the wind all at once.

Elverum is more political than ever before on Night Palace, speaking in no uncertain terms about the evil at the root of the American project on tracks like “Non-Metaphorical Decolonization” and “Co-Owner of Trees.” He’s also funnier: On “I Spoke With a Fish,” for instance, an unprecedented trap 808, a men’s chorus, and other bizarre elements culminate in a lull in which the fish, voiced by Jeff Bridges via a Big Lebowski clip, responds, “I dig your style too, man.” He pivots in musical style more than in thematic material across the album, from early-O’Rourkian folk rock to black-metal screaming and many more sounds in the infinite gulf between the two. Read our interview with Elverum here. —Raphael Helfand

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Big Smile, Black Mire, the debut album from urika’s bedroom, is filled with songs about lost connections and wistful longing. The Los Angeles-based artist has toured with Chanel Beads and Nourished By Time in the past and shares a similarly expansive approach to the singer-songwriter template as those artists. There is a coarse texture to the guitars and processed drums on songs such as “XTC” and “Video Music,” that matches the vulnerable emotional state they were written in. This is an album that feels as if it’s decaying as you listen to it. “Circle Games” and “Junkie” skew darker still, with pained recollections of a relationship that has soured. “Fingerprints on the screen, are you missing me?” they sing on the latter, one of many songs on Big Smile, Black Mire that strike through with unvarnished intimacy. —DR

Hear it: Spotify | Apple Music | Bandcamp