by Wye Oak
(Merge)
The words sound vaguely mournful when I can make them out—"Say no to me and I will love you more" seems to be how it begins, with "I see my face/I want to break in half" and "It's not a bruise/It is a spider bite" the lines that stand out, if in fact I'm hearing them right. But lyrics, schmyrics—this gorgeous near-drone is one of those tracks you keep repeating to lose yourself in, its intricate textures like a velvet-brocade jacket worn to the date you've both agreed will be your last. Andy Stack piles violin, pedal steel, a double handful of guitars, and the nervous tap of the bell of a ride cymbal into a web that gets thicker and darker the closer you listen, while Jenn Wasner cantilevers her vowels from deep within the mix like a crane.
by Tiye Phoenix
(Babygrande)
A veteran MC from D.C. who's worked with Public Enemy (she helped write He Got Game), Mos Def, and Talib Kweli, Tiye Phoenix's long overdue debut, Half Woman/Half Amazin', is way uneven—too many ballads. At first glance, this seems like one, too. But despite the sunny, '70s-kissed keyboards, a sweet bass undertow, Chipmunk backing vocals, and Phoenix's mellifluous flow, it's anything but: Phoenix is in battle mode, and she's effortlessly quotable. How about "I'm operating smooth, I'm a female Kane/Y'all dudes can't move, like a derailed train"? Or "Destined to glisten, don't need your permission/I ignore you like an atheist ignoring a Christian"? You can keep going from there.
by Walter Jones
(DFA)
Both sides of this luscious 12-inch are basically the same on paper: very simple early-'80s post-disco redux with clucking guitar, a muted pearl finish, metronomic bass bump, synth chords that seem to operate of their own free will, and occasional faraway iterations of the title phrase. Especially on "Living Without Your Love," Jones sounds like a woman without seeming to be singing in falsetto. On paper, this makes them like every other nü-disco joint getting flogged right now, but Jones, a self-confessed perfectionist, obviously didn't rest until both tracks (and the instrumental version of "Living") were completely seamless, and they're two of the most arresting club tracks of the year. 
