Every month, we’ll be telling you lucky bastards about the best music we’ve been listening to. It might be old, it might be new, it might be somewhere in the middle – but it will definitely be brilliant. Well, unless it’s chosen by one of those team members with terrible taste. We’ll leave it at that. Here’s the best of April 2026:
Fran Slater
Joshua Burnside‘s latest album, It’s Not Going To Be Okay, has floored me this month. While it might have taken a few listens for the full impact to really hit me, I haven’t been able to stop listening since it did.
What is, on the surface, a sweet and peaceful sounding folk album, actuals holds a lot more power beneath. As Joshua sings about the seemingly mundane and ordinary, lyrics peppered throughout the songs suggest a real attempt to face up to grief, loss, and mental health challenges. It’s a breathtakingly honest and beautiful album and one I think will be on rotation for the rest of 2026.
James Spearing
For no reason in particular I got really into Queen Latifah in April, and I’m still working my way through her albums. One stand out track for me from All Hail The Queen was ‘Come into My House’ which, in her words is “hip-hop house, hip-hop jazz, with a little pizzazz”. Very much of its time, but unfairly forgotten.
Looking back less far, my wife having been gifted the record recently, I’m also belatedly getting into A Complicated Woman from Self Esteem, with ‘The Curse’ becoming a big favourite this month.
I’ve also enjoyed new stuff from Pigeon and Aldous Harding.
Rick Larson
Robber Robber‘s Two Wheels Move the Soul is the new album that caught my attention this month. The Vermont foursome’s sound flirts with no wave nihilism but ultimately, if reluctantly, goes home with rock humanism. The album begins in the same ravaged territory where YHWH Nailgun lives, where drums are king. But, the sound expands upon hyperactive twin guitars and singer Nina Cates’s world-weary vocals. It’s nervy but embracing, an electric blanket on the fritz. The album reaches its apex on the mesmerizing ‘Pieces,’ a cracklingly good song. This album has layers and compartments and I think it is one that I am going to continue to explore throughout the year.
Now, something not so new. You ever learn of a band and an album years later and be mad at yourself for missing out the first time? But, then again, what a lovely surprise. Visqueen‘s 2009 release Message to Garcia is one of the greatest power pop albums of this century, that’s all. The band had Seattle punk roots and a vocalist, Rachel Flotard, who was just about better than anyone else except maybe Neko Case, for whom she sang backup, and Mia Zapata. And what is it about the Pacific Northwest and powerhouse women singers?
Finally, speaking of Neko Case, not to turn this into a book club, but I read her recent memoir, The Harder I Fight The More I Love You, this month. It is an account, in a distinctive and enjoyable voice, of how a girl and then young woman navigated some serious shit to become who she is today. It’s inspiring without making an obvious effort to be so.
Kate Burke
This month saw the release of LØLØ‘s second album, God Forbid a Girl Spits Out Her Feelings, which I have had on repeat for the last week. Having already had high hopes based on the pre-released tracks ‘Me with no Shirt On’ and ‘The Devil Wears Converse’ – which span the melodic-pop-ballad to pop-punk-belter spectrum that the album absolutely delivers, I was not disappointed. Self-deprecating, upbeat yet somehow sad girl music that makes you laugh, dance, and nod your head along sagely to lyrics like “a boy who doesn’t want to is never gonna change” is exactly the kind of jam I’m into at the moment it would seem. I’m excited to catch her on tour next month, and would highly recommend the same if you get the chance!
Sadly, I am also having very big regrets in sharing access to Spotify with my seven year old, because by all accounts my other top listens this month included ‘Crazy Frog’, an amphibian I’d gladly drop a stack of books onto, and a track I can only imagine serves as elevator music on the descent to hell, ‘Screaming Goats.’
Will Collins
sunn O)))) are a band whose music provokes strong reactions in both directions. Either you are fully on board with their brand of glacially-paced drone metal, or you are someone who thinks they sound like the work of chimpanzees investigating a guitar they found plugged in somewhere. If you’re in the latter camp, this record will not be the one to change your mind. If you’re in the former, there is a lot to enjoy. Like much of their work, it’s a record for immersing yourself in, for letting wash over you. Occasional snatches of wildlife aside, the sound is mostly confined to the duo’s guitars, tuned low and turned into emmitors of subterranean groans and rumbles. It is guitar music devoid of riffs or solos, ambient music reimagined by metalheads. Like all their best work, it has a lulling, ritualistic quality to it. Rather than listening to individual details, you get drawn into the wall of sound. You can feel your heartbeat slowing as you do so and your head clearing. I’ve heard their live shows are intense, discombobulating experiences. That isn’t quite replicated on this record, but as listening experiences go, it is an involving, rewarding one. Unless you’re in the latter camp, in which case you will still absolutely hate it. Your loss.
Joe Hoare
Melbourne’s queen of rock introspection returned at the end of March with her fourth solo album, Creature of Habit. The main habit Courtney Barnett seems to be forming is releasing extremely good albums that retain the things that make her music unique – lilting guitar and stream of consciousness lyrics – whilst adding a new element to her sound. In this instance, there is a lightness and some more soulful backing vocals that give this a bit more of a summery feel than her previous albums. There is no better encapsulation of this than “Mantis” which combines existential lyricism (“looking for meaning or any sign at all”) with dreamy ooos and ahhhs and a catchy guitar riff. The combination of light and dark makes it a perfect listen for British springtime.
Fliss Clarke
I am preparing to leave Rio de Janeiro after four years this time and a total of ten years (so far) in Brazil. So the best thing I heard this month are all the MPB (música popular brasileira) classics that are baked into Brazilian nostalgia and that I have absorbed into myself over the years. Seu Jorge, Os Mutantes, Djavan, Jorge Ben Jor, Lulu Santos, Gilberto Gil, Marisa Monte etc etc and on and on. Might have to request the opportunity to write a full article but for now I’m going to highlight Tribalistas ‘Já Sei Namorar´. I love it’s pure tropical pop bounce, the chorus lyrics “I don’t belong to anyone, I belong to everyone, and everyone belongs to me too”, and the absolutely joyous lip sync video. Viva Brasil!
Matt Paul
I was enjoying the surprise drop Enter Shikari album this month. After about ten years without listening to new Enter Shikari material, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect jumping back in. Turns out, not much has changed. It wasn’t long into the first listen of Lose Yourself that I was steeped in nostalgia as they’re energetic blend of post-hardcore and dance beats pounded me in the head.
As always the music was politically charged, dark, with an optimistic bent. Sometimes the sincerity can be a little much (but that might be more a reflection on me). All in all though, a solid release which I imagine would really hit harder live. I may just have to get some gig tickets.
Tom Burrows
Black Midi’s Cameron Picton has a new band called My New Band Believe – and their self-titled debut album has been on hard rotation for me this month. It has this lush and odd combination of baroque pop and weird folk which both immediately grabs and wrong foots you at every turn. From the jaunty intro which revels in its subject’s tears (‘Target Practice’) to a descent into a ‘Heart of Darkness’ immediately followed by a sweet ‘Love Story’, it’s playful yet sinister, and hard to categorise – much like a lot of the music made from his Windmill scene peers. My favourite is probably the proggy, 8-minute ‘Actress’, and the album is destined to be one of my favourites from this year.
Also on repeat this month: the new one from Thundercat. He’s Distracted rather than Drunk this time, but this album has plenty in common with his previous high watermark – and is a big return to form. Like Drunk, it veers between earwormy grooves, subtle introspection, and stand-up comedy – sometimes within the same song. Take ‘What Is Left To Say’, a soulful meditation on suppressing your emotions which begins its third verse with “feelings are like children in the car, you can’t put them in the trunk, but let them drive you won’t go far”. It’s been a little while since his last release, but it’s been worth the wait.
And finally, I’ve enjoyed Tigray Funk, a February release from Tigray-via-Washington D.C. rapper Sideshow. It’s in 4 parts, consists of 32(!) tracks and is an hour long, so doesn’t sound like the easiest album to get into, but the diversity of beats and compelling flows allow the record to wash over you. Take the floaty loops on ‘Martyr Most High’ or the weaving siren-like ‘Alena Paradise Lost’, examples of how the music creates a bed of intrigue for our protagonist to rap over. I found it a really satisfying listen. A great month for new music!
Picky Bastards 