favorite albums of 2022

Below is a list of our favorite albums of 2022. It has no set order — honestly, I’ve spent so much time listening to music this year that I can’t believe I whittled it down to a list in the first place (in fact, there is a second list of more favorites at the end of the first list). This has been an incredibly challenging, frustrating, and heartbreaking year for many — including myself— and its years like this where I am doubly relieved that artists continue to create in spite of chaos, pain, and grief, and that the constant emergence of new and beautiful music is something that never changes, no matter how much the world does. I talk a lot about catharsis, and while I know that this word is one that risks loses meaning after multiple uses, I just can’t help it; in my opinion, no other word represents the albums on this list more than this one. These are artists that — proven by their meticulous focus and passionate compositions  — feel deeply and unapologetically about the world around them, and their music invites you to do the same. What more can I expect from music than an art medium aside from the chance to gather other perspectives, to identify new ways of thinking, feeling, loving? What more can I expect from music than — borrowing from the words of Chris Stewart of Black Marble — not seek to alter my emotional state, but to meet me where I am instead? These albums allowed me that opportunity — I hope they do for you, too. 

If you were an independent artist, band, or record label I communicated with this year in any way, thank you. If you were a reader of this blog this year, thank you. This blog would be absolutely nothing without you! Here’s to 2023. 

P.S. Most of these albums are on bandcamp. If you like these artists, please consider supporting them by purchasing a digital or physical copy of their work, either through bandcamp or on their website. 


Petite League, Thrill Seekers

In October, Petite League released their sixth album Thrill Seekers, the much-anticipated follow up to Joyrider. While Joyrider felt a bit more pensive than albums past, Thrill Seekers instead triumphantly leaned into the same hurt and pain with a newfound tenacity; think: getting stitches, but with nothing to help you through it besides gritting your teeth. Although it may be tempting to read into the inherent romanticism of frontman Lorenzo Gillis Cook’s narratives and consider Thrill Seekers to be an album mainly dedicated to the trials and tribulations of falling in love, it ultimately feels like a well-orchestrated montage, a glimpse into an artist’s past and the events in their life that made them who they are. Gillis Cook has always sung of visceral moments with the images to match – bloody knuckles, chipped teeth, shin bruises, black eyes – but despite these images, there has never been a feeling of regret or shame attached to them, at least, not for very long. Thrill Seekers seeks to remind us that life is but a space to make mistakes and to learn from them, and since the release of Slugger back in 2015, Petite League has always, always made this cyclical process akin to an artform. 

On repeat: “Dyslexic Poetry,” “Mets,” “Dagger Eyes”

Read our review of Thrill Seekers here.

photo courtesy of artist

Cola, Deep In View

Formed after the disbandment of post-punk group Ought (which I’m still reeling from, by the way), Cola – made up of ex-Ought vocalist/guitarist Tim Darcy and bassist Ben Stidworthy along with U.S. Girls drummer Evan Cartwright – delivered a stunning depiction of everyday human experience in Deep In View, their debut ten-track LP. Its narratives are simultaneously entranced and discouraged by the increasing presence of technology, the salvation of poetics, and the arts of pretension and cynicism. Together, they all ultimately emphasize “an aversion to superficiality,” as well as the idea that “quotidian objects and scenes are never just as they seem.” And yet, despite all these ideas, there remained a quiet, yet potent current of serenity coursing through the art-rock narratives and melodies, a desire to possess, in the simplest sense, something similar to happiness while chaotically ensconced in a blanket of absurdity. 

On repeat: “Mint,” “Fulton Park,” “Landers”

Read our review of Deep In View here

photo courtesy of artist

Orchid Mantis, How Long Will It Take

Orchid Mantis is the experimental bedroom pop project of Atlanta-based artist Thomas Howard. Since the project’s start in 2014, Howard’s signature lo-fi sound has beautifully inhabited the space that separates ambient compositional structures and pop songwriting, frequently utilizing obscure samples and unique recording techniques. He brilliantly interrogates ideas like spatiality and temporality, with previous releases like the stunning Yellow House turning it literal. Released back in November, How Long Will It Take is Howard’s seventh (!) full length album,  following the equally beautiful Visitations released last year. HLWIT, primarily about the reality of loss as well as the process of letting go, contains an expanse of hope that lies just under the surface of somber wistfulness, radiating outwards in all directions like light caught under ice; ultimately, it is a gorgeous, sublime oscillation, looking back to the past as well as towards the future, but with the self-awareness that the present, too, can be its own heavy, intoxicating, all-encompassing experience. 

On repeat: “Light Weight,” “Time Flows,” “It Will Be Alright”

Read our interview with Orchid Mantis here.

photo courtesy of artist

Alvvays, Blue Rev

Back in October, Toronto group Alvvays released Blue Rev, their first full-length album in nearly five years. Their sound has always been one positively drenched in texture and color, from bold vivid primary tones in their self-titled debut to the candy-like pastel palette of their sophomore album. And despite the initial sugar rush of Molly Rankin’s soft, yet piercing vocals and shoegaze instrumentals, there’s no crash; their narratives are thoughtful, earnest, and always slightly somber, due to them centering on the absurdities of desire and disappointment. The period of time elapsed since their brilliant sophomore LP Antisocialites was not exactly intentional; damaged gear caused by a basement flood, an apartment break-in resulting in stolen demos, issues at the Canadian border, and of course, the pandemic were all causes of the hiatus. Blue Rev brilliantly shows off this frustration with a newfound aggression. Described as a “nervy joyride,” the album was an expanse to show off their “ability to bridge ostensible binaries…”: “cynicism and empathy, anger and play, clatter and melody, the soft and the steely.” Unsurprisingly from this description, it genre-jumps; punk rock melts into eighties “alcopop” while dream pop merges into garage pop. It resembles something like a controlled mania, but one that transforms into an oddly beautiful feeling of resignation after the fact.

On repeat: “Tile By Tile,” “Lottery Noises,” “Pressed”

Read our mini-review of Blue Rev here

photo by Norman Wong

CD Ghost, Night Music

Written while the duo was split between Los Angeles and Beijing, CD Ghost’s stunning debut Night Music is a beautifully haunting ode to “solitude, change, and the passage of time.” The release is the follow-up to Cody Han and Blake Dimas’s 2020 EP’s Here It Comes Again and Dreams We Share, placing more emphasis on darkwave inspired synth and reverb-heavy vocals. There is a phantom-like quality to Night Music; they mentioned that it is akin to “quietly sitting through the night, observing its changes and watching the rise of the moon as cool air begins to surround.” As advertised, each of the eleven tracks, atmospheric and otherworldly, were perfect accompaniments to my late night drives home, especially during the colder, rainier months; in fact, when taken together, the echoed vocals and frostbitten synth, ironically, ultimately possessed an aura of warmth. These tracks allow you to lose yourself in your sentimental side for just a moment, to indulge in lovesickness and wistfulness. In a fast-paced, unforgiving world, an invitation of this nature is something that I will accept every single time. Put simply, Night Music is synth pop at its finest. 

On repeat: “On My Mind,” “Sleepwalk,” “Nowhere”

photo courtesy of artist

COOL HEAT, Nowhere

In June, COOL HEAT – also known as the solo project of Chicago-based musician and photographer Eden Sierotnik – released his stunning debut album Nowhere. The follow-up to his fantastic 2021 EP Levitate, the release further expounded his atmospheric, melancholic take on shoegaze and dream pop; multi-faceted and gorgeously modern, the project’s name continues to be more than apt; with every single track in his discography, Sierotnik proves with his highly meticulous, maximalist synth work that it is entirely possible to balance opposing ideas, sounds, and textures with finesse. Nowhere, perhaps alluding to a place both illusory and fantastically out of reach, nevertheless showcased its steady, unwavering foundations through the process of calculated layering, but not without, of course, its equally substantial decorative flourishes that linger well after the close. 

On repeat: “No Plans,” “Paranoid,” “Bad Dream”

Read our interview with COOL HEAT here.

photo courtesy of artist

Nature TV, Nightshift EP

Back in October, UK quartet Nature TV released their sixth EP Nightshift, the follow up to their 2021 EP Heartbreak Skyline. Their previous release dealt with matters of love and the lack thereof, and so does Nightshift, but in a way that centers one within the experience. In other words: if Heartbreak Skyline is the experience of viewing one’s sorrow from far away, helplessly staring at a blur of countless tiny lights, then Nightshift is the act of facing these those same insecurities head-on, with the hopes of gaining a newfound sense of self-assurance that rivals the bright neon glow of the city scape. While they might describe themselves as “door-to-door heartbreak salesmen,” don’t be fooled by their roguish tone; these are “songs about love,” they are not “love songs.” The difference? A stunning sense of self-awareness that weaves in residual ache and learned cynicism so seamlessly that there’s no acidic aftertaste. And they don’t do away with love altogether; they hint at the inevitability of the human psyche to willingly succumb to that which makes your heart beat faster, bolder, more steadily, even if it’s just for a fleeting moment. There’s plenty of time for rumination afterwards. 

On repeat: “One For The Road,” “Self Esteem,” “Treading Water” 

Read our review of Nightshift here

photo courtesy of artist

S.C.A.B., S.C.A.B.

Although they are based in Brooklyn, S.C.A.B. – made up of vocalist/guitarist Sean Camargo, guitarist Cory Best, bassist Alex Alabado, and drummer Brandon Hafetz – recorded and produced their self-titled sophomore release in Georgia due to the pandemic, and the essence of homesickness hangs heavy in the tracks. The much-anticipated follow-up to Beauty & Balance, S.C.A.B. opts for a much denser, grittier sound while still keeping intact the beautifully complex melodies and instrumentation articulated in their debut; the songs on S.C.A.B’s cathartic self-titled sophomore release are described as “snapshots of New York moments that feel hazy with nostalgia, yet are the result of being present through transformational circumstances, no matter how seemingly small.” There’s an emphasis on the last part there; even the most fleeting, mundane moments – and the emotions that come complementary – are presented here as beautiful and necessary. In short, S.C.A.B. is a love letter to the structures in our lives that fight to remain standing after the smoke clears: in this case, it’s the restorative power of friendship. As it is described in the album’s bio, “when the members of a band are this close, able to protect each other from the world outside it, they are a force to be reckoned with.” 

On repeat: “Beige and Green,” “Six Songs Into Your Spotify Playlist,” “Tuesday”

Read our review of S.C.A.B here

photo courtesy of artist

Foals, Life Is Yours

Ever since Foals released their perfect album Holy Fire in 2013 – an album that irrevocably changed the way I listened to music – I’ve considered their sound to be akin to pre-post-apocalyptic rock, always including some sort of haunting, yet impossibly beautiful imagery that seamlessly melds the vulnerable with the cathartic. The pandemic exacerbated our proclivity to consider our current day as apocalyptic, of course; in fact, regarding Life Is Yours, their sixth studio album released back in June, frontman Yannis Philippakis stated in an interview that “We’re in a time now where death isn’t a remote concept. We were trying to write something to relish and rejoice in being alive. Life is something to be cherished and enjoyed.” Despite this axiom, however, throughout Life Is Yours, there are nevertheless distinct and near tangible swaths of blight and dread that lie underneath the most vivid bursts of color, but in the most prophetic way possible; it’s a reminder that there is no joy, no comfort, without pain, and that life, while often asterisked by this pain, is still yours to live, to flourish in spite of it. 

On repeat: “Crest of the Wave,” “2001,” “Wild Green” 

photo by Edward Cooke

Other Favorites:

Sea Lemon, Close Up (EP)

Orion Sun, Getaway (EP)

SZA, S.O.S (LP)

Everything Everything, Raw Data Feel (LP)

Turnover, Myself in the Way (LP)

Beach House, Once Twice Melody (LP)

Fontaines D.C., Skinty Fia (LP)

Butter Bath, Kurrajong Hotel (EP)

atmos bloom, Flora (LP)

FKA twigs, CAPRISONGS (LP)


See you in 2023!

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Mini Album Review: Alvvays, Blue Rev

Today, Alvvays share their stunning third LP Blue Rev, their first album in nearly half a decade. The Toronto-based group’s sound has always been a highly specific, signature brand of shoegaze, somehow completely saturated in vivid color, all of it brilliantly cut through with the euphoric rush of Molly Rankin’s soft, yet piercing vocals. In contrast to their bright, ebullient sound, their lyrical narratives, “whip-smart” and always slightly somber, with one foot in the past, center on the realities and absurdities of the space between desire and disappointment. The period of time elapsed since their brilliant sophomore LP Antisocialites was not exactly intentional; damaged gear caused by a basement flood, an apartment break-in resulting in stolen demos, issues at the Canadian border, and of course, the pandemic were all causes of the accidental hiatus. This frustration led to a newfound aggression in their music that’s exhilarating to listen to; Blue Rev is described as a “nervy joyride,” where Alvvays show off their “ability to bridge ostensible binaries.” They brilliantly “fuse elements that seem antithetical in single songs—cynicism and empathy, anger and play, clatter and melody, the soft and the steely.” 

It was incredibly difficult to pick one track from the newly released album to write about, so I have three of my favorites here: “After the Earthquake,” “Pressed” and “Tile By Tile.” These three tracks follow the Alvvays blueprint and check all the boxes, yes; but there’s something new here, something akin to cathartic euphoria, to an oddly beautiful feeling of resignation after the fact.

“After the Earthquake” perfectly captures the feeling of mania, of anxiety – not only in the textured melodies, but also in Rankin’s mile-a-minute vocals that slow down only for a moment before speedin right back up again. “Pressed” follows this energy with a grungy tinge to the guitars, the narrative hinting at the frantic desire to recreate the nuances of a past relationship, but to remain self-assured (“I’ll do my best to keep things light / But I won’t apologize for something I’m not sorry for”). “Tile By Tile” still has a nomadic quality to it, hinting at the act of wandering and pacing, but here, things slow down for a chance to breathe, to ruminate, introduced by moody piano; Rankin’s vocals float and sway over the slightly eerie melodies, caught between daydream and nightmare. “I shouldn’t have ever been calling it love,” she says at the chorus. “I’m still waiting,” she calls out at the end through a haze of distorted synth.

Sigh. What more can I say here? It’s simple and beautiful. This album is beautiful. 

Blue Rev is out now via Polyvinyl Records. 

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photo by Norman Wong

Alvvays – “Belinda Says” / “Very Online Guy”

My newest axiom: when Alvvays releases two incredible songs simultaneously, one should always (ha) write about both. This is exactly what the Toronto indie group did this week in preparation of their upcoming album Blue Rev, their first in nearly five years: 

Two new lambs for the cultural volcano! One more sweet slurp of alcopop dedicated to the girls wiping tables called “Belinda Says” and the dial-up electronic dream “Very Online Guy.” 

I had to share their description verbatim (mainly because seriously, how could I ever top “sweet slurp of alcopop?”) as it reflects their unique and incomparable humor and personality that shows in their music – their narratives, centered on both the absurdities of desire and the romance of disappointment, are packaged sonically like a brightly wrapped box of hard sour candy. “Belinda Says” and “Very Online Guy” follow the already released singles “Pharmacist” and “Easy On Your Own?,” and seem to confirm just how brilliantly multi-faceted Blue Rev will be; the latter, experimental and atmospheric, comments on sudden realization, fear, and disillusionment, while the former, inspired in part by Belinda Carlisle (“Belinda says that heaven is a place on earth / Well so is hell”) is a ballad dedicated to holding on, sung in patient and earnest tones, detailed by a telluric melody in the chorus that is immediately washed over by gritty guitar. Both, of course, deserve your undivided attention. 

Blue Rev is out 10/7 via Polyvinyl Records. 

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photo by Norman Wong

Alvvays – “Pharmacist”

Earlier this week, Toronto group Alvvays announced the upcoming release of Blue Rev, their first full-length album in nearly five years. The period of time elapsed since their brilliant sophomore LP Antisocialites was not exactly intentional, however; damaged gear caused by a basement flood, an apartment break-in resulting in stolen demos, issues at the Canadian border, and of course, the pandemic were all causes of the accidental hiatus. Their sound has always been one positively drenched in texture and color, from bold vivid primary swatches in their self-titled debut to the candy-like pastel palette of their sophomore album. However, despite the initial sugar rush of Molly Rankin’s soft, yet piercing vocals and shoegaze instrumentals, there’s no crash; their narratives are thoughtful, earnest, and always slightly somber, due to them centering on the absurdities of desire and disappointment. 

“Pharmacist,” the first track on Blue Rev, has perhaps one of the most memorable openings of any Alvvays song, beginning with a stripped melody and Rankin’s vocals, then within seconds expanding into a huge, lush soundscape that resembles something between daydream and delirium. “I know you’re back/ I saw your sister at the pharmacy,” Rankin explains, mentioning their “new love glow.” Lamentations and resignations abound; the chorus, sad but sweet, has Rankin accepting that it “happens all the time,” that “I know I never crossed your mind.” Ultimately, “Pharmacist” is a perfect single in every way; balanced, yet evocative instrumentals, a vulnerable, slightly esoteric narrative, and a torrid, red-hot guitar solo to close it all out. What more could you need?

Blue Rev is out 10/7 via Polyvinyl Records. 

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photo by Eleanor Petry 

Album Review: Alvvays – Antisocialites

Through nostalgic, lo-fi dream pop and insanely clever lyrical wit, Alvvays’s self-titled debut album mostly explored the many details and nuances of a two-person relationship, touching on the serious as well as the more jocund. Though built on an aggressive and striking foundation, the debut still evoked the sun-drenched, bubbly mood of retro pop, as well as included unique instrumental flourishes to add moments of delicacy, the amalgamation of its contrasting tones of hard and soft being Molly Rankin’s breathy, and at times, beautifully dreary vocals. Following their signature style of hiding dark, visceral lyrics under the facade of bright, shimmering instrumentals, Alvvays’s sophomore album Antisocialites doesn’t stray too far from the path they’ve paved, but does change its lyrical tone. Mostly gone are the narratives that touch on dependence on another’s touch; instead, the Toronto four-piece explores the ideas of separation and escapism, at the same time fleshing out their jangly, colorful sound, resulting in a saccharine sweet, yet remarkably tenacious collection of tracks without the sugar crash.

The 60’s are still very much alive within Alvvays’s music, but the way in which they alter its components to fit their particular aesthetic almost seems like a parody on the genre itself; the fact that such somber topics lurk underneath shiny, bright instrumentals (see: the drowning of a loved one in the peppy tune “Next Of Kin” on Alvvays) is a brilliant reconstruction of a period of time where the music always seemed just a little too happy. Regardless, the ways in which they do evoke the style are wonderful – Kerri MacLellan’s fuzzy day-glo piano that introduces opener “In Undertow” beautifully swells and grows to provide ample room for Rankin’s velvet smooth voice and accompanying bass line to grab you by the shoulders and pull you into their world. The almost eerie doo-wop of “Not My Baby” house murky instrumentals and Rankin’s sinuous vocals weave around them, the flourishes of synth shimmering just underneath the surface, the bridge evoking a glimmering, refulgent light hovering under a pellucid body of water. “Plimsoll Punks” is more upbeat, cut up into equal moments of unrest and clarity, rebelliousness and frustration. Apparently, the track is about Rankin’s frustrations with being in the public eye and resisting the idea of authenticity in music, leading to the idea that we’re all just “punks” underneath our civilized disguises.

The most wonderful aspect of Molly Rankin and Alec O’Hanley’s lyrical narratives is the fact that they feel lost in time – they’re relatable to almost anyone, regardless of generation. Even though they have the tendency to occasionally reference items and ideas that irrevocably belong in the past (“Archie, Marry Me”’s mention of breadmakers, for instance), the seamless way it sits within the rest of the track only adds to their immense lyrical charm, which is even more pronounced in Antisocialites. “Lollipop (Ode to Jim)” reverts back to the the atmosphere of pinstriped, sherbet serving dance parlors of the 60’s, is one of the most effervescent, Rankin seemingly interrupting her own ebullient tone in her mile-a-minute vocals. “In Undertow” has Rankin exploring the feelings of doubt and insecurity in a relationship, but without really caring if they resolve it or not – the fact that she asks him “rhetorically” if they can be saved as well as the repeated epiphany of “there’s no turning back” during the chorus and the breakdown points to a woman that wishes to explore isolation for a while. “Dreams Tonite” is the experience of seeing someone you once thought you knew perfectly in a completely different light, its hazy, delicate tone making it one of the most earnest, unpretentious tracks in Alvvays’s career. “Not My Baby” provides a moment of epiphany for Rankin, where she explains that she “traded [her] rose colored shades for a wide lens,” focusing on more realistic ideas that include retreating back into her own subconscious instead of voicing her thoughts aloud in the past.

It’s true that Rankin spends more time emphasizing the feelings of separation, escapism, and isolation in this album – seemingly in that exact order – but the last two tracks gradually introduce another character, close to Alvvays’s infamous marriage-hating, alimony fearing “Archie.” in “Saved By A Waif,” Rankin criticizes a faceless “Adrian” among surf guitar and bombastic drums, claiming he “wanted to get it together” but doesn’t, and has no plans to do so in the future. And Rankin won’t wait for him either, apparently. However, it’s clear that Rankin still has a soft spot for whoever it was she was trying to cast aside for ninety percent of the album, because closer “Forget About Life” has her inviting him back to forget about their troubles for a while “under this flickering light,” going back to the youthful excursions introduced in the debut – images of sitting alone with someone that knew you well, drinking awful wine and talking deep into the night, but you can’t help feeling that the relationship that once was has since dwindled, resulting in a bittersweet, nostalgic tone that feels agonizingly tangible for those that can relate all too well.

If Alvvays‘s pragmatic, yet still carefree approach was made up of primary colors, the softness of everything in Antisocialites point to something more pastel in appearance – but don’t attribute the candy like color palette to something without substance; despite its initial sugary sensation, its earnest, unyielding aftertaste houses something fervid and tireless, something that can only continue to grow in strength as Alvvays continues to enhance their unique, unparalleled sound.

8.0/10

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photo by Arden Wray

Alvvays – “Dreams Tonite”

Toronto quartet Alvvays have released the second stunning track from their upcoming sophomore album, following the already released “In Undertow,” which signaled a change in tone from their debut album – quieter, but housing a powerful, potent energy within. “Dreams Tonite” strengthens that theory with its hazy, delicate tone and gentle vocals from frontwoman Molly Rankin, as well as its simple, but emotional narrative. Heartfelt, sincere, and unpretentious, the track slowly and beautifully exudes waves of synth as it plays, the auditory equivalent to a bleeding heart that always seems to want what it can’t have. Rankin wearily asks “who starts a fire just to let it go out” and later, “who builds a wall just to let it fall down” and we can’t help but agree with her. It’s a moment of solidarity for those that seem to alternate between caring and thinking far too much, a ballad for the lovesick and weary.

Antisocialities will be released on September 8th.

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photo by Arden Wray

Alvvays – “In Undertow”

Back in 2014, Toronto-based indie quartet Alvvays released their self-titled debut album, its jaunty, complex tracks like the comical, yet heartfelt “Archie, Marry Me,” and the edgy, emotional “Party Police” flawlessly expressing their own quirky, colorful brand of dream pop laced with shoegaze, surf rock, and everything in between. Now, three years later, the group is back with the first single from their upcoming sophomore album Antisocialities. “In Undertow,” evocative of shoegaze, is definitely heavier and more delicate than their past work, the most different being the softer vocals from Molly Rankin. It’s mellow and simple, with a stoic tone that only expands as the track plays on.

Antisocialities will be released on September 8th.

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photo by Arden Wray

Alvvays – “Party Police”

alvvaysI’ve been intrigued by Alvvays for quite some time now. I kept seeing their debut album artwork on every music blog and site I visited, and it peaked my interest. I finally gave them a listen and I was pleasantly surprised about what I heard. The Canadian five-piece’s music sounds like a blast from the past – or almost like a happy marriage of sixties/seventies sounds with the post-punk genius of the eighties. Lead singer Molly Rankin has a voice that’s perfect for capturing this sort of ancient feeling – it’s bright yet restrained, happy yet dark, confident yet yearning – and it makes listening to Alvvays such a nostalgic experience. In their song “Party Police,” a song that I feel is one of the best off of their new album, is filled with skill and ability, both in lyrics as well as instrumentation. The guitar melody that is peppered throughout is reminiscent of simpler times, and it sounds gorgeous along with Rankin’s piercing voice telling you all about a romantic partner she wishes would just stay. I can tell right away that I will slowly get addicted to each and every song on this album, and I’m so excited to fully analyze their sound more as I discover it. “Party Police” is from Alvvays’ self titled debut album, which was released just a few days ago.

 

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