Favorite Albums of 2025

1. Geese – Getting Killed

Getting Killed is an album rightfully deserving of all the hype that's surrounded it. It sounds like something you recognize, but then nothing like you’ve heard. Think about everything you liked about ’00s and ’10s indie rock, throw that in a Cuisinart, then pile on the Velvet Underground, Television, Captain Beefheart, and very specifically OK Computer, and press start. That might get you there.

The album is a tectonic jump from the competent indie rock of 2021’s Projector and the 2023 Exile-era Stones rave-up of 3D Country to this: primal, percussive-heavy, bent riffs with Cameron Winter’s baritone leading the charge. You just need to hear it.

The skronked-out ripper (and album opener) “Trinidad” is one of those songs where I remember exactly where I was when I first heard it. When the chorus breaks into that roar — “THERE’S A BOMB IN MY CAR!” — it felt like a new window to my brain opened up. I was in a hotel room in Los Angeles. I took out my headphones and said to Ali, “This album is blowing my mind.” We headed to Amoeba Hollywood as it opened and I grabbed one of the last three copies off the shelves. Something was happening. You could feel it in the air.

From the creeping groove of “Husbands” to the euphoria of the title track, they’re completely dialed in. The record peaks with the piano rush of “Long Island City Here I Come.” It’s a jaw-dropping spectacle that loops like a Möbius strip until it suddenly tears, unleashing a feral cacophony.

Geese right now is a band at the vanguard. The torch has been passed. The kids are alright — and what a joy it is to hear them as they hit the stratosphere.

2. Bon Iver – SABLE, fABLE

Justin Vernon gets unfairly dunked on for the one record he made roughly twenty years ago that shot him to superstardom. Fair to say a lot of people stopped paying attention after that, because he never made another record like it. 2011’s Bon Iver, Bon Iver dove headfirst into becoming the greatest soft-rock record of this century, while 2016’s 22, A Million’s severe, distant veneer showed an artist obfuscating his talent to create a record that feels tortured but deeply emotional — someone skirting dangerously close to the heavens while keeping it just earthbound enough. 2019’s i,i continued that trend, but felt a little more human, like being let in on secrets long kept.

He’s built one of the most awe-inspiring careers of the past two decades. The records don’t arrive quickly. They’re labored, provocative, and usually stunning. They also take forever to arrive — usually a half decade passes with a few loose singles and guest spots here and there. So when SABLE, fABLE arrived this spring as a complete work (the acoustic SABLE, a wink and nod to For Emma, Forever Ago, had been released as an EP in the fall), something was different. This was someone looking back for the first time.

But when bridged with fABLE, it feels like something else entirely — a joyous celebration, clear-eyed and open-hearted. Whether it’s the “Kansas turning to Oz” effect of the brilliant, buoyant “Short Story,” the instant classic “Everything Is Peaceful Love,” or the jubilant gospel flecks of “Day One,” featuring newly minted superstar Dijon and the powerhouse voice of Jenn Wasner of Flock of Dimes, it’s pure joy. “From,” featuring Mk.gee on guitar, will stick in your brain like gum on the sole of your shoe.

Vernon has hinted that this record might be it for the Bon Iver project. If that’s unfortunately the case, the album closer “There’s a Rhythmn” says it best:

“I’ve had one home that I’ve known
And maybe it’s the time to go
I could leave behind the snow
For a land of palm and gold
But there are miles and miles to go
And I’ve been down this road before
There’s another chance to show
No need to crow no more”

Whatever that next turn of the road looks like, SABLE, fABLE is a beautiful demarcation.

3. Tyler Childers – Snipe Hunter

The year’s most surprising release comes from a guy who has consistently found ways to confound his audience since the start of his career. Snipe Hunter kicks off with “Eating Big Time,” which includes lyrics about blowing a grand on a luxury boutique watch, before careening into other songs that reference syphilitic koalas (“Down Under”) and the Bhagavad Gita and the Mahabharata (“Tirtha Yatra”). That’s just three songs in and I still haven’t mentioned “Bitin’ List,” about what he’d do if he got rabies: “If there ever come a time I got rabies / you’d be high on the bitin’ list.” It’s Childers’s weird, wild, great psych awakening.

There’s plenty to love here for the traditionalists, too — longtime fan favorites like “Oneida” and “Nose on the Grindstone.” But just in case you think this is some blip on the radar, the weird swamp groove of the album-closing “Dirty Ought Trill” will convince you to buy the ticket and take the ride.

4. Wednesday – Bleeds

Bleeds, the sixth album from Wednesday, isn’t a reinvention so much as a refinement — sharper, heavier, and somehow more vulnerable at the same time. It’s the sound of a band that knows exactly what it does best and digs in deeper.

Karly Hartzman’s songwriting has always balanced heartbreak and humor, but here it feels stripped of pretense. These songs don’t reach for beauty; they stumble into it. The images come fast and real — half-lit porches, late-night drives, bad habits you never quite kick. They’d been circling this approach before, but 2023’s Rat Saw God fully locked it in. Bleeds pushes further.

The album opens in a haze with “Reality TV Argument Bleeds,” guitars building pressure before chugging and finally breaking loose. There’s plenty of noise, but it’s controlled — more tension than chaos.

The band sounds incredible. Hartzman, bassist Ethan Baechtold, drummer Alan Miller, guitarist MJ Lenderman, and pedal steel player Xandy Chelmis have a sound that feels entirely their own. The guitars cut without overwhelming, the lap steel drifts in at just the right moments, everything slightly frayed at the edges. “Townies” is a twangy looper that nails that feeling in miniature.

“Wound Up Here (By Holdin On)” captures a weary resilience, while “Elderberry Wine” aches in softer focus and “Pick Up That Knife” crashes with a mix of rage and release. What ties it together is the pacing — the quiet moments carry weight, the loud ones hit when they need to. By the time “Gary’s II” closes the album, it feels less like a collection of songs and more like a conversation.

What lingers isn’t the riffs or the volume, but the humanity. Hartzman sings like she’s figuring it out in real time. Bleeds is one of the best and most honest records of this moment by an emerging master storyteller.

5. Sharp Pins – Radio DDR

A total revelation upon its release, Radio DDR is the crown jewel in the early career of Chicago’s Kai Slater, who this year alone released two records under the Sharp Pins moniker and managed to get the debut by his main project, Lifeguard, out on Matador. This collection — which I’m resisting extremely hard to compare to middle-aged guy records (and will fail in the next sentence) — feels like a fusion of Big Star and Guided By Voices. It’s that tender sort of songwriting Alex Chilton spent his career fighting, thrown through the same devil-may-care guitar and vocal filter Robert Pollard still uses to this day.

Somehow, Slater makes it all his own, and the result is something wonderful. The Beatles-esque “Lorelei” absolutely shines, “Every Time I Hear” cascades into a beautiful jumble, and songs like “Chasing Stars” and “With a Girl Like Mind” will confound you when you realize they were written by someone born the same year YouTube launched.

6. Craig Finn – Always Been

Since his first solo album in 2012, Finn has found ways to break new sonic ground to accentuate his songwriting. After a series of records with producer Josh Kaufman, he teamed up with The War on Drugs’ Adam Granduciel to produce his sixth — and best — album, Always Been, backed by a majority of Granduciel’s bandmates. The result is less Craig Finn + The War on Drugs and more vivid stories painted with new hues on a sonic paintbrush.

7. Big Thief – Double Infinity

Since Big Thief formed, the interplay between the band’s four members has been so dramatic it almost felt like they functioned as a single organism across their first five records. So when bassist Max Oleartchik departed in 2024, it raised real questions about how the band would — or could — move forward. It turns out they’ve never sounded so free.

Now a trio — Adrianne Lenker, Buck Meek, and James Krivchenia — they decamped to the Power Station in New York City and recorded with ten different session musicians. The result feels no less organic than previous Big Thief albums, but there’s an open-ended, clear-eyed atmosphere that feels brand new, especially on the shifty “Incomprehensible” and the loping, wistful “Los Angeles.”

This approach is never more apparent than on “Grandmother,” credited to the band alongside ambient artist Laraaji, whose vocals intertwine with Lenker’s over cosmic guitars and earthy percussion. It’s a great addition to the catalog of a band that continues to push itself as a towering creative force.

8. Greg Freeman – Burnover

Isn’t it great when a record jumps out at you out of nowhere? I hadn’t even heard of Greg Freeman prior to this April, much less listened to him. But when “Point and Shoot,” the first single from his excellent sophomore album Burnover, dropped, it was immediately clear this was the work of a singular talent who’d been making great music under the radar for years.

The word of mouth that lifted 2022’s I Looked Out from obscurity to buzz was completely warranted. The Burlington, VT-based Freeman built irresistibly catchy songs like “Colorado,” “Come and Change My Body,” and the drowsy “Long Distance Driver” out of dissonance and noise, creating that feeling of being nearsighted and putting on glasses for the first time.

With Burnover, Freeman’s talents come into focus with LASIK precision. The herky-jerky “Rome, New York” stumbles forward on clunky percussion and barroom piano before breaking into a singalong chorus. The breezy, twangy “Gallic Shrug” sounds like Malkmus in miniature, but with less wink and more heart. “Gulch” is a straight-up ripper, all slapdash chords and horns cresting at just the right moment.

If there’s one thing about Burnover, it’s that Freeman took what worked best on I Looked Out and ran it through the “enhance” filter. The riffs hit harder. The rough edges are smoothed just enough. It’s still plenty noisy, but with that Maldon finishing-salt kick.

The record closes with a hell of a one-two punch — a sad, seasick ballad with a cassette-tape sample cutting through the haze, followed by “Wolf Pine,” an atmospheric track of piano and strings that drifts before careening into a full-on wall of guitars. Burnover is the sound of Greg Freeman arriving. Be ready for it.

9. The Tubs – Cotton Crown

The second album from the Cardiff-based band is full of jangly chords and fleet-fingered leads. Every note feels propulsive, accompanied by the vocals of Owen Williams, often described as a cross between Richard Thompson and Bob Mould — a spot-on comparison, especially when he sounds like both on the same song.

I can’t overstate the thrill and breath of fresh air on the gliding opener “The Thing Is” and the chugging “Freak Mode.” It’s an absolute joy to listen to. The crown jewel, though, is the stellar “Chain Reaction,” a song about being a jerk and being fully aware of it: “I am a scammer in the game of love / I take it all and I won’t give it,” Williams sings over guitars and keys that take flight. Who knew self-deprecation and self-awareness could be so damn catchy?

10. Florry – Sounds Like…

A behemoth of a record from an alt-country band from Philly, of all places. “First It Was a Movie, Then It Was a Book,” with its synchronized leads and Francie Medosch’s twang, feels like a brawny Wilco track — a high compliment. While the verses sail with the confidence of a band together for a decade, it’s staggering to remember this is just their third album, seven years in.

“Waiting Around to Provide,” with its early-’70s Neil Young harmonica and crashing chords, nods to familiar sounds without becoming a facsimile. The scuzzed-out “Truck Flipped Over ’19” builds dramatic fiddle lines before unhooking into a thrilling racket. It’s a record that sounds lived-in but alive. With each listen, you half-expect some improvisation you missed before. Even when it doesn’t happen, the feeling that it might is a pretty wonderful magic trick.

11. Hotline TNT – Raspberry Moon
12. Ryan Davis and the Roadhouse Band – New Threats from the Soul
13. Sam Fender – People Watching
14. Dijon – Baby
15. Jason Isbell – Foxes in the Snow
16. Blood Orange – Essex Honey
17. Jeff Tweedy – Twilight Override
18. End It – Wrong Side of Heaven
19. Turnstile – Never Enough
20. Pig Pen - Mental Madness