The first four-plus months of 2023 have already yielded a bounty of great releases. So let’s catch up. We asked a dozen Globe music writers to pick their favorites. From classic rockers to cutting-edge artists, their choices span pop, alt-country, Americana, hip-hop, soul, punk, ska, and R&B. There’s also a robust reissue from some guy named Dylan. Take a look and have a listen.
“Strays,” Margo Price
Nashville’s Margo Price has “Been to the Mountain,” as she sings on the cosmic opening track of her fourth album, recorded with Jonathan Wilson in Topanga Canyon. There’s a lot of coyote in this record — a go-it-alone attitude, even when she’s writing about the people who matter to her. “Light Me Up” builds from a whisper to a climax; “Lydia” is a bleak story-song that demands bodily autonomy. There are echoes of Price’s sheroes throughout, but at this point, she’s unmistakably her own woman. (James Sullivan)
“All Fiction,” Pile
Now a trio, Boston’s reigning post-hardcore-et-cetera band stretches in curious and often quieter new directions amid swaths of cello, violin, and synth. Pile’s most subdued moments have always flickered with uneasy energy, but here it comes to the fore in songs that search for patience and trust. As ever, the band plays with rising tension only to thrillingly bash itself free with a sudden squall of drums or a detonating roar from bandleader Rick Maguire. (Karen Muller)
“Sremm 4 Life,” Rae Sremmurd
The self-proclaimed greatest music duo in the world released their fourth LP in April, and it contains more of their playful antics and infectious anthems. Brothers Slim Jxmmi and Swae Lee, who brought us gargantuan hits like “No Type” and “Black Beatles,” exhibit impressive creative growth on their newest project. The Dido-sampled “Not So Bad (Leans Gone Cold)” boasts palatial musicality while “Flaunt It/Cheap” and “Sexy” pay homage to classic hip-hop. In short, Rae Sremmurd remain just as exciting as they’ve ever been. (Candace McDuffie)
“Did You Know That There’s a Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd,” Lana Del Rey
The prolific Del Rey’s ninth album is her most indulgent and self-referential, but the predominantly piano-based opus contains some of her finest songs and vocal performances. She dials back the swoony romanticism and offers complex, carefully observed portraits of thorny relationships, yearning, self-loathing, and messy emotions. The best cuts, including the title track and “A&W,” a musically demanding seven-minute triumph of compressed storytelling, find the singer/songwriter at the peak of her powers. (Ken Capobianco)
“Altitude,” Marty Stuart and his Fabulous Superlatives
“The most outlaw thing you can possibly do in Nashville these days is play country music,” says Marty Stuart. Needless to say, that’s exactly what Stuart and his aptly named Fabulous Superlatives do on their first album in six years. But “Altitude” (out May 19) once again offers a version of country music that is quintessentially Stuart’s, rooted in and reflective of tradition while simultaneously capacious enough to explore the far reaches of the country cosmos as he conceives it. (Stuart Munro)
“Bottom of the Pomps,” The Pomps
This quartet of Boston ska and punk veterans led by guitarist/singer Alex Stern had kicked around for a dozen years without ever releasing a full LP. This one was well worth the wait. Like the best of two-tone ska, there are cutting, funny, and often reflective lyrics on top of a clean, bouncy New Wave beat. Lead-off track “Climb Aboard” is a tale that finds the heartbreaker departing on the MBTA’s 57 bus. The Pomps play the Cantab Lounge May 23 and the Crystal Ballroom June 30. (Noah Schaffer)
“Cracker Island,” Gorillaz
The saga continues for Damon Albarn’s cast of characters on Gorillaz’s “Cracker Island,” the eighth studio album from his cartoon band. Here Albarn perfects dreamlike electro-pop that drifts awake for sporadic struts across the dancefloor, like frenetic outlier “Skinny Ape” and the Thundercat-assisted title track. Often the record can’t decide if it wants to boogie down or take a breather — but on this expansive island, there’s ample room to do both. (Victoria Wasylak)
“Loser on the Ropes,” Brian Dunne
Dunne’s fourth album is a collection of sharply drawn sketches that he sings from the perspective of people who find themselves coming up short. With a smart aleck’s wit and a knack for clear-eyed lyrics, the Brooklyn singer is a sympathetic narrator. Dunne brings a nervy energy and a generous supply of memorable hooks to songs including the heart-on-sleeve anthem “Rockaway,” the punchy, propulsive single “It’s a Miracle,” and the heart-bruising ballad “Sometime After This.” (Eric R. Danton)
“72 Seasons,” Metallica
Oh, so rock is dead? Someone forgot to tell Metallica. The band is back with a blistering attack on its first album in seven years. Some tracks echo the jackhammer speed of Metallica’s thrash-metal roots. The title “72 Seasons” refers to how long an 18-year-old has lived, while singer James Hetfield fills in the horrors that it can provide. “I am desperation!” he barks. But the difference is he is more hopeful now in his post-rehab adulthood, ending with “I’m never too far gone to save.” (Steve Morse)
“Fragments: Time Out of Mind Sessions (1996-1997),” Bob Dylan
Bob Dylan never sings the same song twice. Rhythms change. Tempos change. Lyrics change. Dylans change. That’s why I love the bootleg series. His writing: hard-boiled, noir, pared down. We have outtakes, alternates, live versions, and 2022 remastered originals that pop. A “Highlands” remaster brings that Edward Hopper-like Boston diner to life. Dylan’s voice is in its blues-prime: roughened, grizzled-yet-intelligible growls. Standout track “Love Sick Version 1″ is slowed down to a dirge so dark it reminds me of Leonard Cohen’s final album. (Lauren Daley)
“Rat Saw God,” Wednesday
That the covers repertoire of North Carolina collective Wednesday includes the likes of Drive-By Truckers, Roger Miller, and the Smashing Pumpkins succinctly sums up their ethos. Those disparate influences converge at the most fully-realized version of their sound yet on “Rat Saw God,” wherein singer-guitarist Karly Hartzman spins tales of personal ennui and small-town turmoil with unsparing detail amidst both gentle alt-country twang (“Formula One”) and howling gale-force guitars (eight-minute show-stopper “Bull Believer”). (Ben Stas)
“So Much (for) Stardust,” Fall Out Boy
The Chicagoland-born emo-pop quartet Fall Out Boy have been one of rock’s most prominent acts for most of the 21st century, but on their soaring eighth full-length they sound newly reinvigorated as a band. Tracks like the razor-sharp “Hold Me Like a Grudge” and the kitchen-sink title track combine elliptical observations on romance and aging with music that has basement-show wiriness and ambition big enough to fill a stadium — which they’ll do in August, when they headline Fenway Park. (Maura Johnston)
“Praise a Lord Who Chews But Which Does Not Consume; (Or Simply, Hot Between Worlds),” Yves Tumor
Opening with a scream and a sudden gasp for breath, Yves Tumor’s latest record charges full-speed into the unknown with muscular basslines and a glam, goth-y sensibility. On the surface, it’s sharp and shiny rock ‘n’ roll, but Tumor’s songs are more interested in questions than grand statements. Over squealing guitars and pulsing synthesizers, they explore the terms of reality, romance, and the idea of a higher power, making uncertainty sound like electrifying possibility. (Karen Muller)
“Thanks 4 Nothing,” Tink
The talented Chicago native teamed up with Hitmaka for her latest and most venomous project to date, “Thanks 4 Nothing.” The title track also serves as the album’s intro, with the artist acknowledging a former lover who helped build her resilience. On tracks like “Save Your Soul” and “Trust Issues,” Tink boldly relishes in who she is, flaws and all, despite heartbreak. “Thanks 4 Nothing” shows off how the singer/songwriter continues to chart her own path in the music industry. (Candace McDuffie)
“Shook,” Algiers
An astute listener once called the music of this Atlanta band “dystopian soul.” A going concern for more than a decade, Algiers takes a big step up with its fourth album, which features a guest appearance from Rage Against the Machine mystery man Zack de la Rocha. The band creates a density of sound and style by drawing all kinds of space junk into its orbit, from Bomb Squad-era production to the electronic post-punk of millennial Brooklyn. It’s the sound of resistance: “Bite back the hand that feeds you if it’s poison.” (James Sullivan)
“Billy Valentine and the Universal Truth,” Billy Valentine
You’ve likely never heard of Billy Valentine, even though he’s had a career in music for decades. You’ve more likely heard of Flying Dutchman Records, although not lately; it hasn’t put out a record for decades. Now, Valentine has launched the label’s re-emergence with “Billy Valentine and the Universal Truth,” a collection of protest songs that finds him applying his reedy tenor to jazzy, soulful renditions of classics by Gil Scott-Heron, Curtis Mayfield, Prince, and others. The results are revelatory. (Stuart Munro)
“.photos,” Nate Nics
The gifted Boston hip-hop artist calls this poignant EP his most personal work, and he’s sampled thoughts from photographer Sean Tucker about the healing power of self-portrait. But any listener should be able to identify with the themes of reflection, struggle, community, and mental wellbeing — including “Seinfeld” fans, who’ll remember the episode that inspired the track “Serenity Now.” Collaborators Teatea, Kleo, and Nahli shine as well. Nate Nics plays BAMSFest June 23. (Noah Schaffer)
“Fuse,” Everything But the Girl
Since 1999′s “Temperamental,” both Tracey Thorn and Ben Watt have kept busy, releasing solo albums and books as well as having three children together. On their 11th album as a duo, they pick up where they left off two-plus decades ago, digging into dancefloor melancholia. But they also cast their collective glance into pop’s future; Thorn’s singular alto gets digitally contorted and manipulated on tracks like the mournful “Run a Red Light” and the swirling “Lost,” and the effect is arresting. (Maura Johnston)
“Common Nation of Sorrow,” Rachel Baiman
On the surface, most of the songs on Baiman’s latest sound like heartworn laments — and they are. Yet her anguish often stems from a sense that ours is a system designed to keep people divided and hopeless. Baiman isn’t polemical about it: She makes her point subtly, through a rootsy instrumental arrangement and sorrowful vocals on “Bad Debt,” say, or with jaunty banjo and droll lyrics on her sharp-edged rewrite of John Hartford’s “Self-Made Man.” (Eric R. Danton)
“Moving on Skiffle,” Van Morrison
Finally, a sense of fun has returned to Van Morrison’s music. After two controversial albums with anti-COVID lockdown themes, Van digs back to his youth for this album of skiffle-era songs that he exquisitely rearranges into a double-album treat. The folk-jazz leanings of skiffle enhance cover songs from the likes of Hank Williams, Lead Belly, and Lonnie Donegan, probing all directions from old-timey to rockabilly. A real tour de force by a rejuvenated Morrison. (Steve Morse)
“Raven,” Kelela
Kelela builds on the sound she forged with her innovative “Take Me Apart” from 2017 with this revelatory electronic/R&B dance album. The songs here are sumptuously produced and transcend most soulless contemporary club music. Through revealing tracks about the liquidity of identity and spiritual renewal, Kelela looks back to drum ‘n’ bass and jungle influences while daringly plunging forward to create a sensually expansive record that becomes a fully immersive listening experience. (Ken Capobianco)
“This Stupid World,” Yo La Tengo
Seventeen albums deep into a nearly 40-year career, Yo La Tengo can still surprise. “This Stupid World” follows a string of acoustic and ambient-leaning projects that had begun to suggest a gentle fadeout for the Hoboken indie trio; it stands as their most dynamic collection in a decade. Menacing grooves, motorik meditations, and moments of disarming poignancy abound. Few bands could employ a refrain of “Prepare to die . . . while there’s still time” and make it sound practically heartening. (Ben Stas)
“Somewhere Under the Rainbow,” Neil Young
If I had a time machine, I’d go back to see Neil Young live in the early ‘70s. This album is one reason why. On Nov. 5, 1973, a long-locked, sunglass-rocking Young and the Santa Monica Flyers (Nils Lofgren, Ben Keith, Billy Talbot, Ralph Molina) threw down at London’s Rainbow Theatre. Nothing but bangers, including tracks from “Tonight’s the Night,” along with other hits like “Don’t Be Denied,” “Cowgirl In The Sand,” and “Human Highway.” The recording is raw, but it doesn’t matter. A concert-taper or bootleg-freak will know what I mean. It’s a warm, sizzly album whose purpose is to serve as witness. Let you pretend you were there. It’s druggy analog magic. (Lauren Daley)
“Surgery Channel,” The C.I.A.
Super-shredder Ty Segall regroups with his trio The C.I.A. on “Surgery Channel,” 12 tracks of genre-contorting whiplash executed with a menacing grin. Segall’s signature guitar fuzz freezes over on this January record, revealing a crystallized vision of the wacky, wanton future of punk. Buckle up before pressing play — and maybe bring a helmet. (Victoria Wasylak)