I love reading about bands. I've read the AllMusic reviews of my favorite albums multiple times over. If my Apple Music selection has a writeup to go with, I'll read it. And I can read a good band book in a matter of hours. I'm not a professional nostalgia whore, but reading about these bands really does put me back in that time, and in that headspace. Like the music itself! I can't get enough of that particular high.
All but one of the song titles on Body Sound, the debut album from experimental string trio Whitney Johnson, Lia Kohl, and Macie Stewart, line up nicely-a few words, usually two, usually nouns, separated by a vertical line. The straight line in the middle means different things in different disciplines. In computing, it's called a 'pipe' and serves as a conduit. In poetry, it denotes a pause or break. In music, it marks the beginning and end of measures.
R&B in the 21st century has been in a constant state of flux, tugged between safe traditionalism and blurry attempts at progression. For the last decade-plus that "progression" has seen R&B music become more indebted to trap records and the moody atmospherics of alternative bands like Radiohead, Coldplay, or My Bloody Valentine.
You know that song from 1987? The one you haven't heard in years? Start playing it right now and I bet you'll nail every word, every pause, every dramatic key change. Meanwhile, you're standing in front of your open refrigerator wondering if you already ate lunch today. This isn't just you being forgetful or having selective memory. There's actually fascinating psychology behind why your brain holds onto those old Backstreet Boys lyrics like precious gems while treating yesterday's breakfast like trash to be deleted.
A MARTINEZ, HOST: As we finish this year, let's listen to some of the musicians we lost in 2025. Sam Moore was half the R&B powerhouse Sam & Dave. He sang on smashes such as "Hold On, I'm Comin'," "I Thank You" and this one. (SOUNDBITE OF SONG, "SOUL MAN") SAM AND DAVE: (Singing) I'm a soul man. I'm a soul man. MICHEL MARTIN, HOST: We also lost the guitarist on that song, Steve Cropper. He defined the sound of Memphis soul with the Stax Records House Band. He appeared on hits by Otis Redding, Booker T. & The M.G.'s and Wilson Pickett.
In the just-named Grammy Album of the Year, DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS-which Bad Bunny has declared his " most Puerto Rican album " to date-the supernova reggaetonero painted an evocative portrait of the Caribbean island, while declaring to a whopping 8.6 million listeners: "VOY A LLeVARTE PA PR" (I'm going to bring you to Puerto Rico). And he did. Last year, a record-breaking number of tourists-7,486,000 to be exact-visited Puerto Rico's tropical shores.
Angels exist, I swear! If you were at the sold out Austra show on Monday, you would have witnessed Portland-born, Berlin-based multidisciplinary artist Colin Self descending from the heavens to bless us mere mortals with their angelic vocals and cherub-like presence. If you're looking for something to believe in, believe in music-it's one of the very few things with ability to unite complete strangers in dialog, movement, and tears.
With so much good music being released all the time, it can be hard to determine what to listen to first. Every week, Pitchfork offers a run-down of significant new releases available on streaming services. This week's batch includes new albums from xaviersobased, Shackleton, and Joyce Manor. Subscribe to Pitchfork's New Music Friday newsletter to get our recommendations in your inbox every week.
I'm a harmonica and accordion player and one half of folk-classical duo Stevens & Pound. As a multi-instrumentalist I am rooted in a folk tradition that is oral, aural and communal. Music and song are passed down by ear, either through recordings or more fun traditional music sessions. Here, players and singers get together to share, swap and play tunes, drawing from a repertoire that is always evolving.
On any given day our writers, editors, and contributors go through an imposing number of new releases, giving recommendations to each other and discovering new favorites along the way. Each Monday, with our Pitchfork Selects playlist, we're sharing what our writers are playing obsessively and highlighting some of the Pitchfork staff's favorite new music.
The only song here that really matters. Written just hours after the murder of Alex Pretti in Minneapolis and released a few days later, Springsteen names names (looking at you, Stephen Miller and Kristi Noem) and speaks bold, specific truth. With a title that recalls his own impactful Streets of Philadelphia, a melody reminiscent of Bob Dylan, and an urgency not felt since Neil Young's Ohio, it may not be groundbreaking musically, but Streets of Minneapolis is exactly what we need right now.
The song reflects on two contrasting visions. In the first verse, he looks back on his childhood growing up female and compares it to living in a dream. Then, after a stirring bridge, he revisits the same reflective structure and ponders his childhood growing up as a boy: "When I was a little boy I wanted to be real/ I wanted to feel all of the things my body wanted me to feel," he sings.
But to anyone tracking the data over the past few years, it was inevitable. In 2022, Bad Bunny's Un Verano Sin Ti redefined the market, driving Latin music's streaming growth to new heights. It later became the first Spanish-language album nominated for Grammy Album of the Year. The takeaway is simple: When you have accurate, real-time data, you don't guess where culture is going, you know.