In this segment, we round up the best albums released each month. From Perfume Genius to Weatherday, here are, in alphabetical order, the 10 best albums of March 2025.
Bob Mould, Here We Go Crazy
Before going into the studio, Bob Mould‘s demo-making process typically involves preparing for the type of ornamentation that might eventually decorate a song. In the early stages of the recently released Here We Go Crazy, the former Hüsker Dü frontman’s 15th solo album and first in five years, his approach was so liberatingly straightforward that he found himself resisting the thought of any kind of unnecessary polish. At the studio, backed once again by his long-serving rhythm section of drummer Jon Wurster and bassist Jason Narducy, he had something of an “allergic reaction” to the synth options available to him; alongside longtime engineer Beau Sorenson, he landed on a refined simplicity that only further invigorates the record’s visceral urgency. Breezing through in just over half an hour – though Mould handily controls the force of the wind – the record channels turbulence and uncertainty through concise, caffeinated rock songs powered by soaring hooks, crunchy, propulsive riffs, and some of the most taut songwriting of his career. Read our inspirations interview with Bob Mould.
Circuit des Yeux, Halo on the Inside
If the best word to describe the sound of Halo on the Inside is “nocturnal,” that’s because the process behind it was quite literally that, too. Haley Fohr, the Chicago-based artist who records as Circuit des Yeux, lived alone through the making of her -io follow-up, working 9pm to 5am (make sure you read that right: pm to am) down in her basement studio. As much as it serves as an exploration of Fohr’s inner world, or that of the characters she fashions, it’s also a challenge to transform her working space: into a gothic club, a dream, an ideal destination. Here, continuing to push the boundaries of her sound means forays into minimalism and throbbing dance music, harnessing the imagination – more than darkness itself – as the animating force. Her astoundingly operatic vocals must steer their way through vocal effects, layering, and whirlwinds of noise – partially crafted with producer Andrew Broder (Bon Iver, Moor Mother, Lambchop) – as if evading oblivion. Read our track-by-track album review.
Destroyer, Dan’s Boogie
The world of Destroyer‘s Dan’s Boogie is one of sweeping beauty tumbling towards erasure. “‘There’s nothing in there/Everyone’s been burned,” Dan Bejar sings on ‘The Ignoramus of Love’. “I remix horses.” That third line, which nods to the Bill Callahan song ‘I Break Horses’ and reimagining Patti Smith’s Horses, is evidence of how other pieces of music – as well as film and literature, the boundaries being so blurred in Destroyer’s estimation – permeate Bejar’s subconscious lyrical process. You can’t always trace a direct connection between them as a listener, but you also can’t shake off the way a particular tangle of words, sounds, or images might have bled into Bejar’s madcap expression. It’s Destroyer at their most undiluted and fearless, and the results are both satisfyingly murky and illuminating. Read our inspirations interview with Destroyer.
Fust, Big Ugly
After releasing their sun-kissed, soulful debut Evil Joy in 2021, Fust – now a seven-piece featuring songwriter Aaron Dowdy, drummer Avery Sullivan, pianist Frank Meadows, guitarist John Wallace, multi-instrumentalist Justin Morris, fiddlist Libby Rodenbough, and bassist Oliver Child-Lanning – decamped to Drop of Sun to record Genevieve with producer Alex Farrar, with whom they reunited for their astounding new album, Big Ugly. Named after an unincorporated area in southern West Virginia, around which Dowdy’s family has deep roots, the record is conflicted yet aspirational: homey while grappling with the mystery of home, hopeful when hope rests between the promise of a new life and relenting in old, slow, ragged ways. As the title may suggest, it wrings beauty out of the most unexpected places, honing in the band’s knack for making small feelings appear monumental – that is, closer to their true experience. Read our Artist Spotlight interview with Fust.
Great Grandpa, Patience, Moonbeam
Great Grandpa’s music sounds so splendid, the lyrics so fantastically poetic, it’s easy to undermine their intimacy. “It’s closer when I see you, damn,” goes the hook on ‘Emma’, a highlight on their latest album Patience, Moonbeam, and they return to that damn for a cathartic explosion on the single ‘Doom’. The band’s first album in six years yearns and plays around for a sense of euphoria, and even if it sometimes falls short – of the feeling, not reeling you in – their synergy achieves a kind of unburdening that feels like a gift. “All dark things in time define their meaning,” Al Menne sings on ‘Kid’, making Pat and Carrie Goodwyn’s mournful lyrics sound tenderly affirming. “And fold sharp ends/ Into their mouths.”
Hannah Cohen, Earthstar Mountain
Hannah Cohen released her third album, Welcome Home, the year after she and her longtime partner and collaborator Sam Owens (Sam Evian) moved to the Catskills and started converting their home and barn into a recording studio and retreat. Cohen’s first album in six years, Earthstar Mountain, is a different kind of invitation to the life the pair have built, surrounded by beauty both natural and musical, once again produced by Owens and featuring peers such as Sufjan Stevens and Clairo. It’s just as lush and enchanting as anything she’s put out before, but dustier and sneakily vulnerable, too, bridging the ordinary and magical, pleasure and frustration, even as they seem to breeze through it all. “The rug could get pulled out/ The heartbreak could get loud,” she reminds herself on the closer. “Better to measure it in dog years.” Read our Artist Spotlight interview with Hannah Cohen.
Japanese Breakfast, For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women)
Don’t let the title – itself a nod to a John Cheever short story – fool you: the deeper you listen to For Melancholy Brunettes (& sad women), the harder it is to pigeonhole it. It’s less for any kind of female archetype than it is about a certain brand of foolish masculinity it frames as both timeless and contemporary. It’s about Michelle Zauner, too, a singer-songwriter and author who, following the pop-inflected glee and success of Jubilee, her 2021 breakthrough as Japanese Breakfast – not to mention her similarly lauded memoir, Crying in H Mart – felt the need to shuffle through a cast of fictional characters variously removed and reflective of her own pensiveness. Her nuanced, moody vignettes are matched by richly baroque and luscious production courtesy of Blake Mills, who lends mountainous resonance even to the subtlest songs. Read our track-by-track album review.
Lucy Dacus, Forever Is a Feeling
Rather than expanding or polishing up her sound, Lucy Dacus’ Blake Mills-produced fourth LP charts an ongoing evolution by refining the subtleties and zoning into the minutiae of her songwriting, whose reflections of love, fame, and trust now concern some of the very people helping to bring it to life. Save for ‘Limerence’, the album’s advance singles have mostly been bouncy and mid-tempo, but there’s an enticing tug-of-war between those songs and the deep cuts that pull back. Forever is about traveling long distances and trying to transcend them, about tasting forever in the throes of change, taking the gamble on love when you’re caught between fantasy and truth. It doesn’t always sound as big as the concepts Dacus invokes – God, Fate, Chance – but it’s in the stillest moments that you know exactly what she means, leaving you in a chokehold. Read our track-by-track album review.
Perfume Genius, Glory
Set My Heart on Fire Immediately was the title of Perfume Genius’ 2020 studio album, and of course, there’s always the fear of burning out. ‘It’s a Mirror’, the confident lead single from his astounding new album Glory that marked a shift from the diffuse grooves of 2022’s Ugly Season, still bows down to the feeling of “a siren, muffled crying/ Breaking me down soft and slow.” But if there is a weariness seeping through the familiarly lush and vibrant tapestry of Glory – which reunites Mike Hadreas with producer Blake Mills, while elevating his backing band of Meg Duffy (Hand Habits), Greg Uhlmann, Tim Carr, Jim Keltner, and Pat Kelly – it’s not at the expense of catharsis, freedom, or indeed glory. The album is tender-hearted and open-ended, loosening into a level of directness that not only feels new for Hadreas, but gives even its heavier subjects a weightless air. “My entire life… it’s fine,” he sings on ‘No Front Teeth’. The affirming going to keeps hanging in the silence. Read our track-by-track album review.
Star 99, Gaman
On their sophomore LP, Gaman, Star 99 are still making punchy, exhilarating songs while pushing beyond – though not necessarily past – the twee sensibilities of their 2023 debut Bitch Unlimited, making way not just for the confrontational nature but the poetic nuances of their songwriting. As Saoirse Alesandro and Thomas Romero trade vocals, revealing the core emotions that bind their songs – insecurity, resentment, isolation, often fueled by the fire of generational trauma – you get less of a sense that these are separate people bringing songs than just two friends, in a band, facing similar strifes – and getting through them. Which is, definitionally, the art of gaman. Check out our Artist Spotlight interview with Star 99.
Weatherday, Hornet Disaster
Diving into Weatherday’s latest outing, Hornet Disaster – which stretches over an hour and 16 minutes – is a daunting task, but the Swedish experimentalist sounds more exacting, determined, and addictive than ever. Six years after Sputnik’s debut LP under the moniker, Come In, and just a few after an impressive split EP with Asian Glow, the 19-track LP’s replayability justifies its overwhelming length, while the density of its noise-pop is made legible by intense and equally uncompromising emotion. “Our heartbeats in sync/ Our only real link,” they sing about halfway through the record. After just a single listen, you can’t help but clap along, enmeshed but blissful in the shared chaos.
YHWH Nailgun, 45 Pounds
45 Pounds is as trashy as it is taut, as harsh as it is relentlessly hooky. It’s a combination that brings to mind contemporary purveyors of controlled chaos such as Gilla Band and Model/Actriz, though what’s remarkable about the New York-based experimental outfit’s corrosive, improvisational blend of punk, hardcore, and electronic music is how fully realized – and funky – it sounds on their debut full-length. Zack Borzone’s vocal chops manage to stand out amidst the discombobulating interplay between Jack Tobias’ radiant synths and Sam Pickard’s frenzied percussion, which peaks on the penultimate track ‘Blackout’. It sprints forward while keeping you on your toes.
