It’s Friday, July 11, 2025. Do you know where your headphones are? If not, good luck sifting through this bloated buffet of new music with just your phone speakers and the will to live. This week’s New Music Friday is less of a curated tasting menu and more of a genre-gasm explosion — with long-lost duos crawling out of their creative caves, indie bands still trying to sound like they’re recording inside a tin can, and Justin Bieber attempting to rebrand for the ninth time.
Let’s break it down the only way that matters: with sarcasm, opinions, and a healthy disrespect for polite music criticism.
🎤 Clipse - Let God Sort Em Out
RIYL: Burying hatchets in drum loops and turning sibling trauma into art
Sixteen years later, Clipse is back, baby — and apparently, God’s now in charge of A&R. Malice and Pusha T have reunited like the hip-hop world’s most dramatic soap opera couple, here to prove that time doesn’t heal all wounds, but it does make for a dope reunion album. "Let God Sort Em Out" sounds like a gritty baptism by fire — imagine if HBO’s The Wire were a confessional booth and every verse was a sermon shouted through gritted teeth.
It’s haunting, it’s hostile, it’s… weirdly spiritual? Malice is back to rap about his redemption arc like he’s Moses with a mic, and Pusha T is still snorting metaphors off a golden chalice. For anyone who's missed rap that sounds like it's plotting your downfall while quoting scripture, Clipse just delivered the gospel.
🎻 The Swell Season - Forward
RIYL: Soft weeping in Irish cafes, emotional damage, Glen Hansard sighing into a pint
The Swell Season said, “You thought Once wrecked your feelings? Try twice.” Their first album in 16 years, Forward, is basically emotional terrorism for people who think crying is a personality. Markéta Irglová returns like a forest nymph who's been studying sadness as a postgraduate degree, and Hansard still sounds like a man who just found out his dog can read and chose to run away.
It’s all gentle strings, slow builds, and lyrics that feel like passive-aggressive breakup texts delivered with violins. Honestly, it’s gorgeous — like a band of ghosts performing their final regrets in a candlelit barn. It’s also a strong contender for the “Best Album to Play While You Lie Face Down on the Floor” award.
🧴 Wet Leg - moisturizer
RIYL: Lorde if she did more ketamine, Gen Z snark, sarcastic anthems for the terminally online
Wet Leg is back with moisturizer, which is either a bold commentary on self-care culture or just a horny joke — or both. The sophomore album drops like a group chat argument set to a disco beat. It's funky, bratty, and slathered in enough sass to fuel three Olivia Rodrigo albums and a half-empty can of LaCroix.
Where their debut felt like a cheeky dare, moisturizer feels like they’ve locked in on their vibe: one part art school dropout, two parts indie-pop savant, and a generous squeeze of British nihilism. Just don’t play it around your dad unless you want him asking, “What’s a situationship and why is she yelling about it?”
🥲 Allo Darlin' - Bright Nights
RIYL: Music that makes you miss summers you never had, delicate heartbreaks, Cat Power without the therapy bills
Allo Darlin’ is back, somehow softer than a memory and more fragile than your ex’s ego. Bright Nights is less an album and more a wistful sigh made of chords. Elizabeth Morris’ voice still sounds like a hug you’re not sure you deserve, and the melodies are so pretty they should be illegal in states governed by people who hate joy.
This is the album you put on while pretending you’re living in a French indie film even though you’re just doing laundry in your sad apartment. Bright? Sure. Nights? Technically. But mostly it's the soundtrack to the moment you realize you’re not mad anymore — just tired.
🌍 Burna Boy - No Sign of Weakness
RIYL: Swagger, Afrobeats, doing everything better than Drake
Burna Boy continues his world domination campaign with No Sign of Weakness — a title that might as well be tattooed on the forehead of every verse. This album isn’t just strong — it’s bench-pressing other artists while smoking a cigar made of Grammys.
Expect thunderous percussion, bold declarations, and melodies smoother than a silk bedsheet on a yacht. Burna’s flow is relentless, like he’s delivering life lessons while dancing circles around your faves. Even his filler tracks are better than most artists’ singles. No notes. Just vibes.
⚡ The Lightning Round (AKA Albums NPR Mentioned in Passing but Didn't Want to Argue About on Air)
Let’s speed-run through these, because NPR did and honestly, same.
💿 Justin Bieber - SWAG
Influenced by Mk.gee, which means Bieber is now pretending to be underground while still sponsored by every sneaker brand in existence. SWAG sounds like the spiritual sequel to Yummy, if Yummy got therapy and found Tumblr.
💿 Ólafur Arnalds & Talos - A Dawning
Ambient music for people who say they “don’t watch TV” but are somehow caught up on every Criterion Collection release.
💿 Martha - Standing Where It All Began
A B-sides compilation for the indie-punk completists who still own a working CD player and two ironic tattoos.
💿 Open Mike Eagle - Neighborhood Gods Unlimited
Still the best at making existential dread sound like a stand-up set. Rap for people who overthink everything and then turn it into brilliant verses.
💿 Petey USA - The Yips
Somewhere between emo, folk, and “my therapist said this was a healthy outlet.” Surprisingly charming, like if Phoebe Bridgers learned how to skateboard.
💿 Tony Njoku - All Our Knives Are Always Sharp
We don’t know what this means, but it sounds like a warning from someone who owns several fog machines. Art pop, but like, dangerous.
🪕 Genre Whiplash, a.k.a. The Long List Nobody Asked For But You’re Getting Anyway
Let’s do a lightning roast of a few random picks, because I can’t possibly listen to 80 albums without medically dying.
Charlotte De Witte - Charlotte De Witte
Yes, the album is self-titled. Yes, it’s techno. Yes, it will make you feel like you’re in Berlin at 4 a.m. whether you want to be or not.
Plunky & Oneness of Juju - Made Through Ritual
Funkier than your uncle’s old couch and cooler than you’ll ever be. Afrofuturism meets ancestral jam session.
Dom Salvador - DOM SALVADOR JID024
Jazz so smooth you’ll forget you hate jazz until your third Negroni and sudden desire to wear turtlenecks in July.
Dean Lewis - The Epilogue (Deluxe)
Cry-pop for people who haven’t forgiven their high school ex. Now with bonus crying!
Noah Cyrus - I WANT MY LOVED ONES TO GO WITH ME
The most dramatic title of the week. Sounds like a séance set to acoustic guitar. Haunting and oddly beautiful.
GIVĒON - BELOVED
Still crooning like your favorite mistake is texting you back. This man sings like his voice is dipped in molasses and regret.
Jethro Tull - Still Living in the Past (5xCD)
Imagine releasing a 5-disc album in 2025. Jethro Tull said, “Vinyls? Cute. CDs? Let’s go full Renaissance fair.” This is for the dads, the dads of dads, and the grandpas who keep accidentally calling Alexa “sweetheart.”
The Kinks - The Journey Part 3
Apparently nostalgia is now serialized. Wake me when they release The Journey Part 9: Return of the Boomerangs.
Gwenno - Utopia
If you’ve ever wondered what it sounds like to dream in Welsh while floating through space, congrats. Gwenno’s already there, and she’s got a flute.
Alina Bzhezhinska & Tulshi - Whispers of Rain
Too classy for this blog, honestly. Makes you want to buy incense, read poetry, and take yourself seriously.
Brutus VIII - Do It For the Money
At least they’re honest. Punk that sounds like it came from a haunted vending machine.
Sister. - Two Birds
Folky, dark, moody. Probably recorded during a solar eclipse in a cabin made of sadness.
🎧 Final Thoughts: This Week’s Albums Are Having an Identity Crisis
This week’s music drop is basically a Spotify glitch come to life: reunions we didn’t see coming, albums from people we forgot we followed, and one record (cough Bieber cough) trying very hard to seem cool while begging us to take him seriously again.
But here’s the snarky truth: Let God Sort Em Out and Forward are absolutely worth your time. Wet Leg remains the patron saint of millennial burnout, Burna Boy continues to outshine everyone, and Allo Darlin’ is here for your seasonal depression soundtrack needs.
The rest? Well, they’re out there — weird, wild, and ready for your next hyper-niche playlist titled "Hyperpop Folk for Crying in the Trader Joe's Parking Lot."
Now go listen. Or don’t. Either way, at least pretend you’re not still stuck on that one Mitski album from 2022.