Observing this energetic swell in nature, Septendecim by Saccata Quartet crafts the human analogue to these outbursts, spinning up droney, noisy free jazz into an unstoppable cyclone.

On Lamentations by Sachi Kobayashi, tape manipulation and distortion mimics the corrupting effect of conflict, chewing up the spotless synth pads of hopes and dreams, spitting out an unsettling mass of crunchy noise.

Instead of highlighting wild woodwind solos or wonky guitar riffs, the krautrock of The Key (Became the Important Thing [and Then Just Faded Away]) by Chris Corsano focuses on an element that often gets taken for granted in the genre: the drums.

Throwing a harsh spotlight on this alienation, Allarme by Allarme puts this observer in front of a mirror, giving us a front-row seat to the slow realization of foiled hopes and defunct dreams.

On a personal level as well, White’s lyrics betray a rootlessness and unsteadiness that gets projected outward onto society, all of which gets imprinted onto the music through flowing, kinetic songwriting.

While the idol’s external world sings in pentatonic harmony, their internal reality crumbles into moody free jazz, industrial ambient, and haunting chopped vocals.

Kimj finds a new home for this explosive, experimental style on kimj in korea, a dj tape that infuses edm, hip hop, and pop with a hyperpop flair.

Impossibly wide landscapes inhabited by looping folk instruments and densely atmospheric drones tell us the story of a society of blind ambition, a continual urge towards expansion before unsustainability inevitably begets tragedy.

Striking the stone-cold austerity of gothic rock with a staff until a colorful flood of excess bursts forth, the miraculous wanderers in No Teeth introduce us to a delightful and absurd brand of maximalism on Decadence in Breeding.

This heartwarmingly sincere singer-songwriter album sits at the bottom of the slick slope of childhood, craning its neck to make out the details of the path just traversed.

Each song examines a character reckoning with the onset of colonialism and capitalism, from a woman who feels more similar to the men who sail the world than the women they leave behind to an artisan whose priceless handiwork falls by the wayside as machines replace human hands.

The mainstream vaporized, our confidence decomposed, our enemies multiplied; the only honest path forward for punk lies in the teeth-chattering anxiety of A Salve for Institution by The Sheaves.

Compositionally, introspective lyrics, intuitive structures, and swirling rhythms draw us into the speaker’s inner world, observing our surroundings in all of their typically disregarded psychedelic absurdity.

For Ange Madame on her new record Birth Becomes Her, rebirth represents a deepening of all kinds of sensation and knowledge, from the scalding burn of sympathetic pain to the warm comfort of interpersonal intimacy.

Coin by Taxidermy explores loss in both concrete and abstract forms, using a dark, emo-influenced post-hardcore sound to move past the shock phase of grief.

Deliberately pulling back on the reins before the music spirals into overindulgence, these tracks prioritize acceptance and contentment ahead of jubilation, staying firmly rooted on the ground with positive melodies that remain spindly and narrow instead of escalating to an extravagant height.

Power strangles the world with a steel chain, from an economy that alienates us to interpersonal relationships that eviscerate our personhood. Julie Christmas shatters this chokehold on her terrifying new record Ridiculous and Full of Blood, a wholesale rejection of complacency in all facets of life.

Requiem by The Nausea tells a coming of age story by capturing a moment of earth-shattering realization, a flaming sword that will hold us wailing at the gates of eden forever.

The Silhouette of Us by Kotoko Tanaka builds a psychedelic experience out of a series of stagnant plateaus, each one generally venturing deeper into off-center rhythms, difficult countermelodies, and alien instrumentation.

Inner Light by Mark Templeton represents the death knell of this appropriationist era, chopping and screwing a series of flashy, shimmery christian meditation cassette tapes from the 70s and 80s to point out the absurdity of using such sounds in organized worship.