On Repeat: Vol. 1

Although I’ve always been aware of Mac Miller, Balloonerism is my first real dive into his music. Given that it’s a posthumous release (learnt a new word today), it probably isn’t the ideal place to start—but hey, we all have to start somewhere, right?

I remember his passing dominating social media, but at the time, Mac wasn't an artist in my playlists. Listening to this album now, just a few tracks in, I was hit with an unexpected wave of sadness and guilt.

Sadness, because Mac’s creativity, originality, and sheer talent shine through so clearly on this record. Guilt, because I’d somehow overlooked an artist whose style is the kind of music I naturally gravitate toward.

From the start, I was drawn in by the album’s jazzy, soul-filled sound. It weaves through a wide range of styles, never feeling repetitive—one moment, you’re floating through piano-led, laid-back tracks; the next, you’re hit with funky synth guitars and deep rhythms.

Some songs are introspective and hard-hitting, but it’s the final third of the album that really lands. The shift toward themes of mortality is sobering, given the tragic context. When you already know how Mac’s story ends, every lyric feels like a moment of reflection—

“What does death feel like? Why does death steal life?”

“Didn’t think anyone died on a Friday” … don’t check the day.

The closing track couldn’t be a more fitting metaphor for an ending. The long, drifting instrumental outro feels like a final, drawn-out breath. Children play in the background, like a distant flashback, before it all fades into a ringing sound—like a call left unanswered.

Absolutely loved this album, and its emotional weight only deepened my appreciation for it. The introspection and tragic foreshadowing made for a more genuine and powerful listen.

Mac, I’ll be back.

Father John Misty has always been a staple on my playlists, thanks in large part to his timeless single “Real Love Baby” and that one with Lana Del Slay. But aside from that one familiar tune that I keep on repeat, this album, Mahashmashana, is my first real journey through his discography. Oh, I’m sure you’re also wondering, the title translates to “ancient burial ground”, I know, very mysterious…

After googling the meaning of the title, I sat down, ready to absorb every word. But honestly? I had no clue what I was listening to—like trying to say Mahashmashana after five pints. My potato brain stood no chance at unraveling the deeper meanings behind most of the songs. Still, it’s clear that Josh Tillman’s poetic style shines through; the catchy choruses, smooth lyrical flow, and storytelling all back his folky roots. Conclusion – understood nothing, but it sounded cool.

Once I stopped trying to decode every line, it was hard not to be impressed by the production quality. The album features an incredible mix of orchestral arrangements and a variety of rich instruments. Standouts? The psychedelic poppy vibes of Screamland and the unmistakable disco feel of I Guess Time Just Makes Fools Out of Us - groovy, baby.

But my absolute favorite has to be the title track, Mahashmashana. It feels epic from the very first note, instantly drawing you into the album’s unique world. All in all, a thoroughly enjoyable fever dream of a listening experience. Cheers, Father.

Hearing that Rizzle Kicks are releasing a new album in 2025 was definitely not on my bingo card! But just seeing their name was a nostalgia hit that instantly shot this album onto my listen list.

Known for their distinct British charm, Rizzle Kicks may not have had a huge international audience but they were a defining part of the early 2010s UK music scene for me as a teen. This marks duo Jordan and Harley’s first release in over a decade, after stepping away from music together in 2016.

The opening track instantly throws you back into Rizzle Kicks’ signature sound — jazz and ska infused hip-hop — making for an exciting start to their comeback. The first half of the album is strong, packed with fun, energetic tunes that stay true to their original style while showcasing a definite lyrical and production-level maturity. New Sport is the definite standout for me!

Then, at track five, we get the album’s first feature: Maverick Sabre. Given his powerful, soulful discography, I was bracing for a track with impact but was left slightly disappointed. The song felt slow, muted, and honestly, like a missed opportunity to create an absolute banger.

Unfortunately, the second half of the album loses steam for me. While I don’t necessarily disagree with the political themes, some of the messaging felt a little too preachy. The opening/closing spoken word sections are overused, popping up on too many tracks, and I think the political commentary could have been more carefully curated.

Overall, this album marks an exciting return for Rizzle Kicks and shows heaps of potential for future releases. But for me, it lacked a real edge, and I struggled to find a single track that’s going to sit on repeat.

Not an immediate favourite for me, but hey — if this is just the warm-up, I reckon we’ll be hearing some proper bangers from the duo in the next few years. Kick it!

North Shields’ own Sam Fender is back with People Watching, his third album and his first since 2021’s Seventeen Going Under.

Given how much I’ve loved his past work, I approached this one with cautious optimism — you can definitely have too much of a good thing. But thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

This record is a personal, self-reflective masterpiece. Fender, shaped by his working-class upbringing, grapples with the contrast between his roots and his rise to fame.

After years of touring — headlining festivals, selling out arenas — he turns his gaze back home. The album captures the bittersweet feeling of returning to the place that made him while wrestling with the guilt of escaping a life that many of his friends and family still live every day.

As a Brit, it’s hard not to love Sam — his humble, down-to-earth demeanour and self-awareness of where he’s come from make him incredibly easy to root for.

I don’t come from the same working-class background — as a middle-class tosser from the South — but the album’s political sentiments, critical of our ‘crumbling island’ and a health service ‘fallin’ to bits’ under out-of-touch politicians, really hit home.

Musically, People Watching sticks to the familiar Sam Fender formula. It doesn’t stray far from his signature indie sound, blending strong lyrical storytelling with that cinematic energy — it’s exactly what I cam back for.

The track that elevated the entire album for me was the finale, Remember Me. Written from his grandfather’s perspective while his grandmother battled Alzheimer’s, it’s a gut-wrenching love song.

It hit me personally, as I watch a loved one go through the same cruel disease—slowly stealing their life away. My grandma has always been fiercely strong and independent, and seeing that fade is heartbreaking.

It’s a reminder of how music lands differently depending on where you are in life.

You got me right in the feels with this one — thank you, Samuel Fender.

Seeing Only God Was Above Us pop up on so many “Best of 2024” lists sent me straight down memory lane—back to Reading Festival 2014, watching Vampire Weekend on the main stage whilst squashed against the front railings.

Their 2013 album, Modern Vampires of the City, was a constant pre-festival hype-up for me but was probably the last time I listened to a full record of theirs.

This reintroduction is packed with a range of styles, shifting from synthy, psychedelic tunes to jazz-inspired sounds — sometimes blending both in a single track.

The pacing is spot on, too. Take Surfer, with its melancholic slowdown, followed immediately by the chaotic, noisy intro of Gen-X Cops—an instant pick-me-up that keeps the momentum rolling.

Each track feels distinct yet part of a cohesive whole, making Only God Was Above Us a solid and consistent listen.

It’s been a welcome revival of Vampire Weekend for me—not just musically, but as a reminder of a past life.

More importantly, it’s brought back flashbacks to my teenage self, sitting in a sweaty festival field, brushing my teeth with nothing but a leftover can of warm cider. What a Weekend.