Another year has passed, which means another crop of albums has released. From long-awaited drops to sudden, meteoric rises from up-and-coming artists, 2025 had a lot of great music to offer. As the world faced strife, conflict, and challenge, musicians and fans alike sought out and gathered around inspiring, cathartic expressions that functioned just as much as refuge as they did acts of resistance. That isn’t to say that 2025 was all bad, though, as it was one of the most momentous years of my personal life. The selections that I’ve made for my top albums of the past year reflect both of those realities simultaneously — music that was both necessary for the world but also extremely important and transportive for me through a new job, a move, and a dream wedding season. I took extra time to reflect and decide the order of the list this year, as there was simply so much incredible material to choose from. I wanted to be confident with my selections, and at last, it’s time to unveil my top albums of 2025. Without further ado, let’s get into the list. But first, I’d be remiss not to list some honorable mentions that had an impact but didn’t quite crack the top ten.
Honorable mentions (in no particular order):
Cancionera - Natalia Lafourcade
Revengeseekerz - Jane Remover
Glory - Perfume Genius
Alfredo 2 - Freddy Gibbs
Dead Channel Sky - clipping.
DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS - Bad Bunny
God Does Like Ugly - JID
Hurry Up Tomorrow - The Weeknd
Don’t Tap The Glass - Tyler, The Creator
The Life of a Showgirl - Taylor Swift
10. Pain to Power - Maruja
To kick off the list, I felt the need to highlight the Manchester-based Maruja and their hard-hitting, bombastic debut album Pain to Power. There is a familiarity and maturity to this project that gives the impression that the band has been doing this for decades. But that couldn’t be further from the truth; instead, this potent group is completely fresh on the scene. Inspired by the likes of Black Country, New Road, black midi, and Geese, Maruja embraces a post-punk, noise rock sound that both overwhelms and hypnotizes its audience. At the same time, though, Pain to Power is thoughtful, poignant, and political in all the right ways. I can’t wait to see where they go from here.
9. Getting Killed - Geese
I discovered Geese through their lead singer Cameron Winter and his recent full-length album Heavy Metal. His gorgeously grating, instantly-recognizable vocals translate incredibly well to a group-based project, as Getting Killed is one of my favorite experimental releases of the year. There is a captivating balance of tenderness and unabashed aggression throughout this project, with syncopated melodies and unique subject matter. This project is wide-ranging, covering subjects from spiritual searching, anxieties of modern life, apocalypse, to loneliness and seeking purpose in our current society. A whirlwind, Getting Killed is a must-listen from 2025.
8. People Watching - Sam Fender
Another new discovery for me in the past year, Sam Fender and his newest full-length album People Watching immediately had me hooked. The English singer-songwriter’s heartfelt and evocative lyricism discusses nostalgia, class struggle, addiction, and the importance of reflection. The instrumentation on this project is vast and whole, and the production value is very impressive for a modern rock album. Certain tracks evoke a young Bruce Springsteen, but Fender’s originality and unique perspective make him much more than a copycat of any other artist. The original release of this project was impressive enough, but the deluxe version and the additional tracks and collaborations he introduced on it bring People Watching to the next level.
7. Portrait of My Heart - SPELLLING
The first full-length follow-up to her enchanting 2021 album The Turning Wheel, SPELLLING’s Portrait of My Heart is the stylistic and thematic curveball she needed to both evolve and live up to the incredibly high standard that she set for herself with her last project. Self-reflective, raw, and honest, Portrait of My Heart lives up to its namesake with Chrystia Cabral’s most introspective lyricism to date. But this emotional clarity and availability isn’t masked by understated instrumentation; instead, this album’s alternative hard rock sensibilities amplify and strengthen the themes that Chrystia gets across to her audience. The theatrics are still present, and Chrystia’s unique vocals will always be a staple of her sound, but this project was also a step into a new direction, and I couldn’t get enough.
6. Forever Howlong - Black Country, New Road
With perhaps the highest stakes at hand with their 2025 album release, Black Country, New Road had the Herculean task of attempting to follow up the release of their 2022 smash hit sophomore album Ants From Up There after the departure of lead singer Isaac Wood, who for many fans, defined and sculpted the group’s identity. But the group didn’t regress into safety or mediocrity after this switch up — they rose to the challenge and doubled down by fully embracing their progressive, baroque-pop inspired sound and highlight each member’s unique talents brilliantly throughout the project. While not reaching the same cohesive and spellbinding heights of AFUT, Forever Howlong is an inspired, imaginative, and impressive showcase that proves Black Country, New Road is going nowhere but up as it features some of their best pieces yet.
5. Lotus - Little Simz
I truly believe that Little Simz is one of the greatest living hip-hop artists and is greatly underrated in the genre. Her 2025 album Lotus is another entry into her increasingly legendary discography that proves just that. After the public fallout with her longtime producer and collaborator Inflo, Simz had a chip on her shoulder and a point to prove. Lotus opens with a bang, addressing the conflict head on with the hard-hitting and direct “Thief,” but the project doesn’t linger and overly focus on a subject that proved he isn’t worth Simz’ time. The project expands to let her loyal fanbase into the mindset she was in when navigating this difficult period of her life, which often led to uncertainty and a lack of creative direction. But that struggle is also what was needed to create this beautiful, somehow relatable project. After seeing her live in concert in November of last year, I believed even more firmly that Simz is one of the best rappers alive.
4. Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You - Ethel Cain
Another installation of the lore-heavy sonic universe created and inspired by Hayden Silas Anhedönia, otherwise known by the same name as her title character Ethel Cain, Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You serves as part two and a prequel to the trilogy that her 2022 album Preacher’s Daughter introduced. This Americana, slowcore project delves into the depths of doomed young love, generational trauma, and disillusionment over the course of its sprawling seventy-three-minute runtime. While much of this project’s tracks are intentionally and methodically drawn out, its peaks are among the highest of the previous year, with tracks like “Nettles” and “Tempest” stealing the show with their inescapably poetic lyricism. “‘Cause baby I’ve never seen brown eyes look so blue” still twists the knife every time. I can’t wait to watch this trilogy conclude once Hayden is ready to tell the rest of her compelling and heart-wrenching story.
3. Let God Sort Em Out - Clipse
The reunion of Clipse’s founding brothers Pusha T and Malice is exactly what hip-hop needed in 2025. Not only is this project as hard-hitting and downright fun as their past work, like 2006’s classic Hell Hath No Fury, but Let God Sort Em Out showcases a maturity and emotional vulnerability that humanizes the brothers more than ever before. The album’s opening track, “The Birds Don’t Sing”, discusses and reflects on the passing of the brothers’ parents in the time since their most recent project, setting an emotional tone for the rest of the album. But that isn’t to say that the brash confidence of these two is gone — in fact, it’s stronger than ever. Tracks like “Chains & Whips” and “P.O.V” also employ the use of collaborations and features masterfully, with Tyler, The Creator and Kendrick Lamar offering some of the best verses of the year, respectively. This project’s production is top-notch, its melodies are infectious earworms, and the aura of Let God Sort Em Out is unmatched. Despite strong competition, this is by far the best rap album of the past year.
2. The Art of Loving - Olivia Dean
…
I know. I get it. This is one of the more unexpected selections that I’ve ever made on a top albums list, especially considering its very high placement at my number two spot for 2025. What you may be even more interested by is the fact that Olivia Dean was my top artist of 2025 according to Spotify’s Wrapped. Yes, I’m serious. I know.
But you, like I wasn’t, also shouldn’t be surprised. The Art of Loving is one of the most soulful, romantic, and uplifting albums of the decade so far. Olivia Dean’s ability to deliver timeless, vulnerable, jazzy pop music in a modern context is second to none. Songs like “Man I Need,” “So Easy (To Fall In Love),” and “Let Alone The One You Love” sound like they’ve always existed. And the emotional finale of “I’ve Seen It,” an interpolation of Bill Withers’ “Just The Two of Us” is simply exquisite. Dean is warm, welcoming, audaciously-talented, and we are lucky that she is sharing her gift to tap into this genre of music so delightfully with the world. This album served as the soundtrack for my Maui honeymoon, and I will continue to return to its brilliance for years to come.
1. Vanisher, Horizon Scraper - Quadeca
Vanisher, Horizon Scraper was easily my top selection for best album of 2025. The artistic progression we are witness from Ben Lasky, known by his performing name of Quadeca, is unrivaled and truly inspiring. I knew that we were in for a treat once the intentionality of this album’s rollout became clear — every detail accounted for, not a single stone unturned. Then came the singles to introduce the new era: “GODSTAINED” and its Bossa Nova-inspired art pop, “MONDAY” and its progressive baroque tendencies, and “FORGONE” and its progressive chamber pop sprawl. What I could never have imagined was how Ben would be able to tie these tracks from one to the next so seamlessly, creating a narrative depiction of the sailor’s journey that explores individualism, existentialism, the search for meaning, and a futile pursuit of the impossible. This project’s themes and tracks resonated with me on a very deeply personal level, and the cyclical structure of this narrative is continually submerging in all of the best ways.
What truly sets this album apart as an incredible work of art, though, is its accompanying film. Not just a cheap visualizer, but a full-length narrative in-and-of itself with some of the most creative, symbolic, memorable, and cinematic imagery I have ever seen put behind a concept album. If you haven’t yet, you owe it to yourself to get lost in the world of Vanisher, Horizon Scraper as I have many times. You can do so by clicking this link. I can’t wait to discover the universe that Quadeca introduces to us next.
And there we have it! Always my favorite blog post to write, my top albums of the previous year list is complete, and there are so many great projects to revisit and choose from. What music did you get into last year? Which projects are you looking forward to or hopeful for in 2026?
Music
Album Review: Willoughby Tucker, I'll Always Love You - Ethel Cain
Ethel Cain has returned with her highly-awaited sophomore album Willoughby Tucker, I’ll Always Love You three years after her critically-acclaimed debut Preacher’s Daughter. That project, highly-regarded by fans, immediately established a universe of characters and sonic motifs that are being elaborated throughout its follow-up Willoughby Tucker. The music is warm, patient, and slowly unraveling — full of characters you’re growing to know by heart without ever meeting them. The album story is set in 1986, years before Preacher’s Daughter, and right away it’s clear this record is more intimate. There are smaller stakes but heavier silences, and this project is more emotionally resonant to me in many ways.
The album follows Ethel and Willoughby — young, codependent, soft lovers whose relationship seemed destined to crash. The project is structured like memories, full of fragments, half-shared feelings, and songs that stretch without needing to arrive anywhere. Ethel moves between drone, ambient-folk, and soft southern pop, letting the production engulf her, dissolving around her voice.
“Nettles” is the emotional center and my favorite song of the album — almost eight minutes of emotion wrapped in organ and banjo. This song also contain’s my favorite line from the album: “I’ve never seen brown eyes look so blue.” “Fuck Me Eyes” leans into synth and shoegaze in a disarming way — it’s very messy and raw. There’s a tension between the album’s characters wanting to be looked at and wanting to disappear entirely.
The pacing is gentle but precise. “Dust Bowl”, “Tempest”, and “Waco, Texas” are just as expansive and devastating toward the end of the album, constantly building in emotional intensity. After the storm, everything feels hollowed out. This album depicts a specific kind of aching, prolonged heartbreak that Ethel seems eerily familiar with depicting through her characters.
There’s no final act at the end of this project, as it serves more as a prequel. You know from the first track “Janie” that something is going to be lost in the end. The cinematic storytelling Ethel’s known for is still here, but it's quieter. The drama happens in sideways glances and things left unsaid. At its simplest, this album’s songs are about wanting to stay in a moment that’s already slipping away.
Willoughby Tucker is more stripped back than Preacher’s Daughter, but it lingers longer. The album slowly unravels and is in no rush to resolve anything, never needing to over-explain itself. Ethel understands that the most devastating kind of love is the kind that feels like it could last, even when you know it won’t.
Favorite tracks: “Janie” — “Fuck Me Eyes” — “Nettles” — “Willoughby’s Interlude” — “Dust Bowl” — “Radio Towers” — “Tempest” — “Waco, Texas”
SCORE: 9.2/10
Album Review: Vanisher, Horizon Scraper
Quadeca’s fifth studio album, Vanisher, Horizon Scraper, might be his most expansive project to date. Fourteen tracks, nearly 69 minutes, and a full-length film that’s just as bold as the music itself. From the opening notes of “No Questions Asked,” you’re pulled into a windswept, apocalyptic folk saga — part philosophical journey, part descent into madness.
In many ways, this album feels like a fully evolved version of his most recent project I Didn’t Mean to Haunt You. That album lived in grief and isolation, wrapped in spectral, experimental arrangements. Vanisher blows that world wide open. Where Haunt You felt static and internal, Vanisher is outward-facing and mythic, leaning into the shape of an epic quest. You can hear The Odyssey all over this record: a lone sailor chasing purpose, navigating a dangerous sea of illusions, regret, and moments of fleeting beauty. But unlike Homer’s hero, Quadeca’s protagonist never comes home. The journey is the destination — and the curse.
The album is built like a modern myth, with each song playing out as a trial or temptation pulling him deeper into the unknown. Quadeca blends ambient textures and orchestral swells with folk instrumentation and experimental minimalism, giving the music a constant sense of drift. Tracks like “THUNDRRR” are dazzling not just musically but visually in the accompanying film, where lightning cuts across black oceans in perfect sync with the song’s chaotic crescendos. And quieter pieces like “I DREAM ABOUT SINKING” are just as vital, giving the narrative space to breathe and make the storms hit harder.
One of the album’s biggest peaks is “FORGONE,” a nearly eight-minute centerpiece that grows from hushed piano to gospel-sized catharsis before falling apart into silence. That collapse leads straight into the closing track.“CASPER (with Maruja),” whose post-rock textures and whispered vocals mirror the fragility of the album’s opening. In the film, the sequence is unforgettable: Quadeca’s character bobs in and out of water as space and time dissolve around him, finally consumed by the cycle he’s been trying to break. It’s one of those endings that stays with you long after — and makes you want to start the album again.
That cyclical structure is what makes Vanisher so addictive. It ends where it began, but everything feels different the second time through. It’s a story that resonates deeply with young people still finding their way, because it captures how early adulthood can feel like a loop of searching, rebuilding, and second-guessing. There’s comfort and fear in that repetition, and Quadeca leans into both. The lyrics are dense with metaphor: water as erasure, radio static as memory loss, longing as self-destruction. He’s both narrator and doomed protagonist, and by the time the mythic Bakunawa (brought chillingly to life by Danny Brown) devours the moon, you feel the inevitability of it all.
If I Didn’t Mean to Haunt You was emotional excavation, Vanisher, Horizon Scraper is the summit. A full concept pushed into operatic folk-epic territory. Ambitious in every sense but never indulgent. Like The Odyssey, it balances introspection with forward motion, knowing that the beauty of the journey lies in its cycles.
Ultimately, Vanisher, Horizon Scraper isn’t just a record — it’s a voyage that’s expansive, hypnotic, and heavy with meaning. It’s myth-making for a generation still trying to figure out who they are and where they’re headed. It pulls you in with its scale, keeps you hooked with its storytelling, and leaves you changed when it swallows you whole. Like the ocean it depicts, it’s impossible to fully grasp — and that’s exactly what keeps you diving back in again and again.
Favorite tracks: All
SCORE: 10/10
Album Review: DON'T TAP THE GLASS - Tyler, The Creator
Tyler, The Creator has returned suddenly with his newest album DON’T TAP THE GLASS, and this time he’s not building a world; instead, he’s capitalizing on his well-deserved positive momentum. It’s his shortest release yet at just ten tracks and twenty-eight minutes, but it moves with intention. No concept, no alter ego, no cinematics. Just pace and presence. The title itself reads like a command: don’t interrupt, don’t dissect, don’t poke around looking for depth he isn’t offering. This album is built for motion, not meditation.
The rollout reflects that same energy. No ornate visuals, no extended teasing. Just a quiet drop in the middle of his Chromakopia tour and a note that this project wasn’t made for sitting still. Compared to his previous records — where the packaging was often as layered as the music — this one feels deliberately light. Not hollow, just unburdened. There’s nothing to decode here, no long arc to trace. It’s not a concept album, it’s a movement record.
There’s also the sense that Tyler’s experimenting again. Not reinventing himself, but pushing forward — testing out grime textures, rubbery funk, high-BPM loops that border on dance music. “Big Poe” feels like a beam of sun refracted through broken glass, with Tyler gliding over it like it’s effortless. “Sucka Free” comes through with clipped percussion and a fantastic bass — the kind of track that sounds like it was made in 15 minutes and didn’t need a second more. There’s looseness here, but not laziness. The music is sharp even when it’s fast.
And that speed matters. These songs are short — most clock in under three minutes — but they don’t feel unfinished. They arrive, make their point, and move on. Even the softer moments (“Don’t You Worry Baby,” “Tell Me What It Is”) don’t linger. They suggest emotion without spelling it out. There’s something restrained about them — like Tyler knows you’ll feel what you need to feel without him having to lay it bare. He’s said this album wasn’t built for stillness, and you can hear that in how little space it gives you to pause.
What’s compelling is how Tyler avoids spectacle without losing presence. There’s no heavy narrative or big finale. Just texture, rhythm, and restraint. Vulnerability shows up not in lyrics, but in choices — in the brevity, in the refusal to explain, in the confidence to release something this minimal with no framing around it. He’s not interested in giving you a full picture. He’s letting the edges stay loose.
There are also moments — specific cadences, basslines, or sudden drops into tenderness — that subtly gesture back toward his earlier works. Bastard’s rawness, Wolf’s oddball melody lines, the confidence of Flower Boy — they all flicker at the edges of this record without ever hijacking it. DON’T TAP THE GLASS doesn’t reach for legacy. It doesn’t try to top anything. It just constantly moves — fast, smart, and fully in its own lane. If this is Tyler in transition, it’s a fluid one — not toward a new persona, but toward lightness. That’s what makes it so refreshing. This record doesn’t pretend to be a defining moment. It just knows exactly what it is. And sometimes, that’s all you need, even if it leaves you wishing for more.
Favorite tracks: “Big Poe (feat. Sk8brd)” — “Sugar On My Tongue” — “Sucka Free” — “Ring Ring Ring” — “Don’t Tap The Glass / Tweakin’” — “I’ll Take Care of You (feat. Yebba)” — “Tell Me What It Is”
SCORE: 7.9/10
Album Review: Let God Sort Em Out - Clipse
After sixteen years away, Clipse didn’t come back to relive their former glory. They came back to finish the project they started. Let God Sort Em Out isn’t a nostalgia trip — it’s a reckoning that has finally arrived after a masterful rollout. Pharrell handles the production top to bottom, but this isn’t a return to the style of Neptunes from the 2000s. It’s sharper, colder, and sometimes stranger. The sound moves between cold-blooded minimalism and grandeur, and it frames the two brothers’ voices — Pusha T and Malice — who now rap like men who’ve realized the full cost of their ambitions.
The opening tracks, “The Birds Don’t Sing,” sets the tone with almost no fanfare. Pusha and Malice are grieving the loss of their parents. The song sits in silence before it even begins, and once it does, it lands like a prayer. There are moments on this album that feel heavier than any beat can carry, and that’s the point. Even when the flows are airtight and the bars and wordplay are vicious, there’s a weight underneath: memory, mortality, and loss. Clipse have always made music about consequences, but never this directly.
Then the album flexes. “Chains & Whips,” “P.O.V.,” and “Ace Trumpets” bring back the cold-chested luxury raps, but they’re reframed. There’s tension in the subtext and more scar tissue in the delivery. The verses land clean, but the energy isn’t youthful — it’s watchful. There’s power here, but it’s been earned the hard way. That energy carries through the middle of the album, even in moments that lean theatrical. The confidence is still there, but it’s less about proving something and more about refusing to do anything but tell the truth.
The production walks that same line. Pharrell keeps things stark — tight drums, unexpected breaks, beats that feel like they’re holding something back. It’s not trying to be pretty. There’s a rawness, even when the polish is there. But when guests show up — Kendrick, Tyler, Nas, John Legend — they feel like pieces of a grander architecture, not spotlights. They enter the world Clipse built instead of pulling us out of it.
What makes Let God Sort Em Out resonate isn’t the reunion. It’s the clarity. These aren’t two rappers picking up where they left off. These are two people who have changed since we last heard from them, and you can hear that in every line. The album is bitter, weary, sometimes defiant, but never hollow. It’s about legacy, yes, but also about grief. About what gets lost when you give your life to a thing, and what it costs to look back at all of it and try to keep going. Clipse didn’t come back to make a statement. The presence and gift of new Clipse music is the statement.
Favorite tracks: “The Birds Don’t Sing” — “Chains & Whips” — “So Be It” — “Ace Trumpets” — “E.B.I.T.D.A.” — “F.I.C.O.” — “Let God Sort Em Out/Chandeliers” — “By The Grace Of God”
SCORE: 9.5/10