Bad Bunny, Lady Gaga, FKA Twigs

There’s still so much to be said about this album, somehow — despite it being released in the first few days of the year. At first listen, the swirling mix of Carribean beats hit hard and fast, making this the perfect soundtrack to any boisterous party. But to stop there would be to miss the point entirely. This is a living thesis on identity, nostalgia and resistance, built on versatility in sound — a foundation of live instrumentation that incorporates salsa, reggaeton, dembow, plena and so much more — that is only matched by its depth of commentary, ranging from intimate personal memories to biting critiques of Puerto Rico’s neocolonial reality. It’s an album that refuses to be just a moment; instead, its lyrical and musical contents demand you take your time to reflect. Contrary to the fast-paced nature of modern-day pop culture, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos” proves its urgency as resistance in the form of free-wheeling perreo from an artist at the top of his game. — Thania Garcia

As big and outward-facing as his music can be, hibernation and isolation have always played a big role in Justin Vernon (a.k.a. Bon Iver)’s creative process. His breakthrough album, 2007’s “For Emma, Forever Ago,” was the result of several weeks spent alone in a winter cabin in the wilderness of his native Wisconsin; “Sable, Fable,” his first full-length release in six years, is the product of another inward period, but also captures his emergence from it. In fact, it’s actually two very different albums combined into one: The opening, quieter “Sable” segment is atmospheric, moody, largely acoustic and even a cappella in places. But after a pause, the album shifts gears into an almost R&B album, complete with falsetto vocals, Motown-esque melodies and sped-up samples, capped by the soulful “There’s a Rhythmn” (sic). Sprawling but surprisingly cohesive, “Sable, Fable” contains nearly all of Bon Iver’s multitudes. — Jem Aswad

Aren’t you glad Boygenius broke up? Well, that sounds like a rude thing to say. (And also, there is no official split; surely we haven’t heard the last of the super-trio forever.) But imagine the frustration we’d be feeling if that group kept going, divvying duties, and we didn’t get a full 12-song set from Dacus. It’s as grand as singer-songwriter music gets in 2025, and the world needed the full dose. There are some first-rate songs here about breaking up, having broken up or feeling the restless urge to take off now and take stock later. But the real core of “Forever Is a Feeling” is a set of unabashed love songs Dacus came up with in the process of putting her heart out on her sleeve about her relationship with (hey!) a certain member of a certain on-hiatus supergroup. “Big Deal” may be the year’s most haunting song about something that didn’t work out but still engenders a huge amount of affection, but “Best Guess” and “Most Wanted Man” are small, smart masterpieces of pure, swooning romanticism, sung in one of the most disarming and heart-melting voices of her generation. Thank God she’s still in her genius phase. —Chris Willman

FKA Twigs tends to be one of the great experimentalists in pop music, shapeshifting across albums and giving into her rawest artistic indulgences. And it’s why “Eusexua,” her third album, is perhaps her most streamlined. Where past records played against convention (some songs, like the mesmerizing “Cellophane,” unfurled like amorphous plumes of smoke), “Eusexua” crafts a world inspired by ’90s club music that yields her most immediate material yet. Comparisons to Madonna’s “Ray of Light” and Bjork feel apt on tracks like the swirling “Girl Feels Good” and “Room of Fools,” respectively, yet “Eusexua” at large is just as challenging — and rewarding — as you’d expect from a Twigs record. — Steven J. Horowitz

Isbell went solo in every conceivable way. There is the record itself, for starters, his first all-acoustic effort without the 400 Unit or any other band, after eight previous records under his name that featured full electric ensembles. For this set, the reigning poet laureate of American rock relied solely on his own picking, recorded in five days last fall at NYC’s Electric Lady studio with nothing but an engineer and an exquisitely mic-ed 1940 Martin O-17 guitar for company. And then there is the subject of much of the album, which is… going solo. Speaking of elephants in the room, he does not avoid the subject of his split from ex-wife (and former bandmate) Amanda Shires, with fans of either and both still curious about where Americana’s First Couple went wrong. (It’s a curiosity that will linger up to and beyond Shires’ own upcoming album.) Isbell’s also not avoiding the love songs that a new relationship has prompted. It’s all fascinating and startling and often brilliant, and also a sure source of mixed feelings for anyone still not sure who, if anybody, should be awarded primary custody of our longstanding affections. But anyone’s admiration for the craft here should remain unaffected, if not the candor, too. And Isbell does an amazing job of addressing another split — the one between America’s red-state and blue-state mentalities — in “Crimson and Clay,” as good a song as could be written about the difficulty of continuing to feel at home with both. —Chris Willman

Who believes in angels? Maybe you will, if you are a fan of both John and Carlile but didn’t imagine that we’d ever get to hear a joint album from them, much less one with credible first-hand echoes of both “Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding” and “The Joke.” There is a song here called “Swing for the Fences,” with a lyric penned by Carlile about queer proud and an anthemic Elton melody to match. But part of what’s cool about this collab is how it doesn’t go out of its way to swing for the fences with anything so corny as an overt or crass attempt to get John a big comeback pop single in 2025, as if that’d be possible right now. Instead, it’s really playing to the strengths found in both artists’ most personal or seminal work, like the suite-like opener “The Rose of Laura Nyro,” which (with lyrics by Bernie Taupin) could have been written for “Captain Fantastic.” Multigenerational hookups among stars who span big age gaps tend to be fun in concert, then not work out in the studio, but this is the exception, It’s talents who are equally matched and, in putting their personal friendship to the professional test, found interesting and delightful ways of blending their A-games. —Chris Willman

Drawing inspiration from the musical icons who have shaped Spanish-language pop culture, “Tropicoqueta” is both a vibrant celebration and a loving preservation of that legacy. The Colombian record-breaker blends the traditional with the contemporary. “Papasito,” for instance, is a flirty and playful merengue where she sings in English for the first time. On the cinematic ranchera “Ese Hombre Es Malo,” her emotion cuts through the expertly layered arrangements, revealing a depth that feels undisputedly classic. There are also moments of pure, joyful release – none more evident than in the title track, a high-energy, dance floor-ready anthem that is the focus of the LP. Here, Karol is at her most inspired, showcasing a heartfelt tribute to the beauty, passion and grandeur of Latin music. Not to mention, this record arrived with perfect timing, coinciding with the onset of the summer heat. – Thania Garcia

Lady Gaga went back to basics for her seventh album “Mayhem,” pulling off a feat that only an enduring artist of her stature can: harnessing the thrill and spark of her earlier work without coming off as a retread (or even worse, a concerted attempt to capture past glory). The pop singer revitalized sounds from her “The Fame” era and upholstered them in a contemporary context, yielding a dance floor album that easily contends as one of her best. “Abracadabra” and “The Garden of Eden” feel fresh and sharp, slotting neatly into the rah-rah Gaga pantheon, while moments like the Taylor Swift-esque “How Bad Do U Want Me” and tender ballad “Blade of Grass” add varied touches of texture. To sound this vibrant this deep into her career isn’t just a show of strength for Gaga; it’s a reminder of why she’s still here. — Steven J. Horowitz

This South African singer’s previous work showcased her sassy rap-singing and major melodic abilities, but was nowhere near as exciting or cohesive as this, her third album. Indeed, as she says in the press materials, “My last album ‘Phases’ showed you the different sides of me one at a time. ‘Full Moon’ is all of me, lit up in my entirety.” That’s due in no small part to co-writer/producer Johan Hugo (who’s collaborated with everyone from Self Esteem to Bruno Mars to Baaba Maal), whose hard, driving beats and throbbing bass provide a perfect setting for Moonchild’s sex-positive lyrics, imaginative melodies and sumptuous harmonies; she also drops “Yah!”s and “Whoo!”s into the background of nearly every song, a deceptively simple tactic that makes the songs even more exciting. Most of all, this album moves — it’s propulsive and pulsating from start to finish. — Jem Aswad

“Please forgive me for the things I can’t change / ‘Cause you gon’ need forgiveness for what I’m about to say,” prefaces Madison McFerrin on “Heartbreak,” the gripping opener on her sophomore album “Scorpio.” And she doesn’t hold back on the record, which examines the jagged emotional angles of a breakup. At once, she’s pointed and fanged — “Guess you’re learning how you reap just what you sow,” she sings on “Your Garden” — yet she delivers it with such tenderness and sensitivity that her reflections play as meditations. Chalk that up to McFerrin’s gift for harmony, as the record is meticulously arranged with layered vocals that continuously captivate. For McFerrin, “Scorpio” feels like a way of reconciling pain with beauty, and she does it with grace. — Steven J. Horowitz

So much of contemporary music over the last few years has been a rinse-and-repeat nostalgia play, with new generations of artists using the past as a template for the present. Tate McRae takes that same approach on her third studio album, “So Close to What,” a sonic seance of her musical forebearers, yet she does it with such precision and panache that it instead plays like a game of pass the baton. It’s easy to spot the references — Pussycat Dolls’ “Buttons,” Nelly Furtado’s “Promiscuous” — yet McRae threads a needle through the album that makes them distinctly her own. What she executes is a project with scope and diversity (the Miami Bounce paean “Bloodonmyhands,” the Timbaland-indebted “Sports Car”), tied together by her distinct delivery. McRae feels one step closer to achieving her full potential on “So Close to What,” and she’s having a blast along the way. — Steven J. Horowitz

British dance-pop savant PinkPantheress’ initial appeal was due in no small part to her TikTok-shaped ability with what we’ll call microsongs: concise, relatively conventional pop songs with verses, choruses and often a bridge that last for 90 seconds or less. While her 2023 album “Heaven Knows” found her experimenting with a more conventional approach, “Fancy That” finds the 24-year-old splitting the difference between convention and innovation. The songs and the entire mixtape move fast — eight tracks (plus an “intermission”) blaze by in less than 20 minutes — and pack a velvet-gloved punch, especially on the hits “Illegal” and the Panic! at the Disco-sampling “Tonight.” “Fancy That” delivers on all of PP’s promise, satiating while still leaving the listener wanting more. — Jem Aswad

This TikTok star turned budding pop singer charts a confident path in her debut album – one that cooly blends the dreamy with the edgy. While Rae’s lyricism is playful and slightly disorienting, especially on standout tracks like “Fame Is a Gun” and “New York,” it pairs beautifully with the striking dance-pop production at the helm of Elvira Anderfjärd and Luka Kloser. Some criticize this record as hazy for its sometimes overtly cohesive soundscape, but there’s no denying its allure. Rae joyously displays an infectious ebullience that shines on signature songs like “Money Is Everything” and her first Hot 100-charting hit, “Diet Pepsi.” – Thania Garcia

Spanish producer Rusowsky makes an unforgettable debut with this rich and experimental collection — one that’s equal parts idyllic and industrial. It features guests like Kevin Abstract, Ravyn Lenae and even a Las Ketchup sample, but its strength lies in its expertly balanced structure of everything from R&B and flamenco to symphonic pop, Brazilian funk and hip-hop. Standout tracks include the sunshine-y “malibU,” an electro-merengue. A classically trained musician, Rusowsky establishes the scope of his musical identity with an emotional and boundary-pushing pull that is unlike any other. – Thania Garcia

Anonymity and stealth have always been part of the U.K. R&B collective Sault’s methodology and mystique, but they’ve outdone themselves with this album, which simply arrived on streaming services (on a Saturday) with no notice beyond a couple of teaser song snippets on social media. Fittingly enough, it’s arguably their best album in years, a sumptuous serving of R&B filled with winks to ‘70s and ‘80s R&B and especially classic Michael Jackson. As always, singer Cleo Sol and mastermind producer-instrumentalist Inflo are at the forefront, and the band’s core, as usual, is based around its tasteful rhythm section and chunky guitars. Throughout, there are sly references that include Sly & the Family Stone, Fela Kuti, P-Funk and Mary J. Blige as well as MJ. “X” is the most easily accessible Sault album in some time — so it’s perfectly on brand that it would also be possibly their most quiet drop. — Jem Aswad

Five full-length albums into her career, it’s become cliché to describe this Colombian-American singer’s music as luxuriant, lush, sexy, sultry or other such adjectives, but they’re more fitting than ever on “Sincerely,”— at least, sonically. Thematically, the album is about birth (of her son, with Don Toliver) and death (of her mother), but those deep emotions mesh with her soaring, multi-tracked vocals and the album’s plush arrangements and orchestral flourishes. Indeed, there’s a lot in the mood and musical backing for Lana Del Rey fans to love, but Uchis’ voice, melodies and persona are so distinct and clearly defined that there’s never any question who’s singing. And lest it all feel too familiar, track nine spirits you to the late ‘50s with “All I Can Say,” a gorgeous doo-wop/girl-group homage complete with a plinking piano hook and vocal quartet in the background — and it’s followed by a collaboration with the Dap-Kings. To conclude with another cliché, “Sincerely,” (yes, the comma is part of the title) is a non-stop swoon. — Jem Aswad