2025 was a strange but great year for new music. Pop's biggest superstars retreated from the spotlight, albeit briefly, to make way for a resurgence of rock, gritty electronica and underground hip-hop.
This list of 10 albums, compiled by Star magazine's music writers, is a reflection of these changing trends. And as AI-generated music begins to make its way onto our streaming platforms, this list of mostly independent artists making weird and beautiful music is a reminder of what's at stake.
Backxwash, “Only Dust Remains”
Backxwash's The latest album is a defiant feat of organic maximalism, a statement of survival amidst the wreckage of colonial capitalism.
On “Only Dust Remains,” the Montreal-based experimental hip-hop artist reaches into the dark corners of her psyche, unearthing memories of racist and transphobic trauma and sifting through layers of self-loathing, addiction and suicidal ideation. It's dark, but the music is bold and inventive. “Black Lazarus” and “9th Heaven” feature captivating vocal samples floating like incense over reverb-drenched drums. And on “Wake Up,” Backxwash channels the righteous energy of Rage Against the Machine’s Zach de la Rocha through a skittish bed of horrorcore synths, but the song suddenly morphs into a mythical gospel coda. Not since then “Yeezus” by Kanye West there is a hip-hop album filled with such stark contrasts.
On the back half of the album, Backxwash rises from the ashes, purged of anger, and finds redemption in the words of bell hooks and Nina Simone. “Don’t be afraid of the void / It’s not your enemy,” she declares over a searing guitar solo on “Stairway to Heaven.” – And this is not your friend. — Richie Assali
Clip “Let God deal with them”
Rap as high art. Authenticity without apologies. Sandiness combined with luxury. With Let God Sort Em Out, their first album in a decade and a half, Clip turned out to be much more than just a legacy. And when we look beyond the 2020s, there will be no doubt that Pusha-T and Malice's magnum opus will be hailed as one of the most exciting hip-hop albums of the decade.
Breaking with conventional algorithm-driven promotional strategies, where conventional marketing wisdom encourages artists to cast a wide net to generate buzz, Clipse instead went deeper, appealing to the core values of hip-hop fans with a cohesive project filled with cinematic storytelling, lush production values, technical lyricism, and carefully crafted motivational raps.
Duality is the album's central theme: once brothers with one voice, the two men are now morally divided, and the tension between Malice's deepening faith and Pusha-T's refusal to let go of the streets permeates every bar, beat and creative decision. — Vernon What
Cold Spots, “Light of Midnight”
“All I ever wanted was peace / But it eludes me like a dream,” he sings Frankincense Hussein (also known as Cold Spots) on “Closer,” stretching out the last word of each lyric to its breaking point, as if basking in the warmth of fading memories.
Cold Specks' first record since 2017, Light for the Midnight, marks a remarkable comeback for an artist whose promising young career was derailed by mental illness. Co-authored with Chantal Kreviazuk Produced by Portishead guitarist Adrian Utley, the album is a subtle refinement of Hussein's signature doom-soul. More importantly, it paints a portrait of a woman trying to piece together the pieces of her life, sublimating her pain and loneliness into moving moments of beauty.
Following the album's release, Hussein was unable to perform or be active in the press, meaning her 2025 comeback went largely unnoticed. Luckily, the timelessness of these songs coupled with their unadorned vulnerability makes “Light for the Midnight” a quiet masterpiece. — RA
Dijon, “Baby”
It's great to watch the world fall in love with an artist you've admired for years. Dijon is no longer R&B's best-kept secret, just like The Weeknd was in the early 2010s, and is taking the genre into strange, exciting new territory.
“Baby” is one of those rare albums that is completely enjoyable to listen to passively, but reveals a whole new depth when you give it your full attention. Each repeat feels like a new layer is peeled back, especially as Dijon combines textured, noisy and sometimes borderline chaotic production with deep, dense and poetic lyricism.
Tracks like “Yamaha” and “Higher!” require at least three immediate listening sessions: one for vibration, one for sensation, and one for analysis. Few records this year deserve such attention, and even fewer reward it as richly. — VA
Friendship, “The Caveman Wakes Up”
After years in hibernation, rock music came roaring back in 2025, reborn under the leadership of a new guard of vibrant bands unafraid of distortion and mosh pits. But the rock album that has ingrained itself most deeply in my brain is the underrated (and underappreciated) record by Philadelphia band Friendship.
Fans Neil Young and Crazy Horse will immediately find solace in Friendship's jagged country grooves and songs that lazily meander toward moments of quiet brilliance—a wry guitar solo or shimmering strings that seem like a waterfall hidden at the end of a dense forest path. But it's Friendship frontman Dan Riggins whose haunting lyricism elevates this record above the glut of other heartland rock revivalists. “Never have I seen such dull stars/Hollow skulls,” Riggins drawls, and this unsettling metaphor escapes the mind of the wandering insomniac.
The combination of wry humor and dark poetry will remind some of the late David Berman (“Silver Jews”), a lyricist who drew brilliance from what others might see as the grayest details of ordinary life. “Who's that idiot in my living room?” Riggins snarls at Resident Evil, turning his resentment of his video game-addicted roommate into a frenzied allegory of existential dread. — RA
Geese, “Kill”
Music is most captivating when it cannot be fully grasped or understood. This necessary break between art and fandom sparks curiosity and allows the imagination to run wild. On “Getting Killed,” New York rockers Geese offer a masterclass in balancing the knowable and the unknowable.
Throughout the album's 11 tracks, the listener is pulled in several directions, sometimes all at once. Soundscapes vary from art-jazz improvisations to dizzying breakdowns. The texts oscillate between specificity and mystery. Frontman Cameron Winter's vocals offer muffled musings on life that turn into memorable screams. (“There’s a bomb in my car!”) These points of contrast form a puzzle whose pieces shouldn’t fit together, but do so beautifully.
At the heart of Getting Killed is an undeniable sense of creative freedom. In structure, instrumentation and songwriting, the band prefers to push beyond the boundaries set by their peers and predecessors. The result is an album that feels truly alive and fully deserves its 2025 breakthrough. — Emily Hanskamp
Chaim, “I'm leaving”
After parting ways with the band's producer Ariel Rechtshaid, lead vocalist Danielle has taken the lead in crafting an artistically powerful rock album that clearly covers all the bases: desire, temptation, rejection, regret, affirmation, grief and intention. Songs like “All Over Me” and “The Farm” are breathtaking, and what’s magical about “I Quit” is that the varied styles and arrangements fit the theme perfectly. This is perhaps Haim's most cohesive and coherent project to date, capturing the emotions that arise when someone's heart is torn from their chest, but the survival instinct emerges, promising a new beginning. — Nick Creven
Jeremy Ledbetter Trio, “Gravity”
Jeremy Ledbetter the site warns, “If Jeremy Ledbetter's trio were an inanimate object, they would be a runaway train.”
That's an apt description of “Gravity,” the second album from local jazz pianist Ledbetter, bassist Rich Brown and drummer Larnell Lewis. The seven powerfully melodic original compositions, starting with the explosive opening sounds of “Flight,” are imbued with a passion that is lacking in other modern jazz trios that prefer a more saccharine approach. Shining with their classical discipline, the trio dazzles with sonic gems like the celebratory “Song of the River” and the joyful, reggae-tinged “Two Cousins.” — NK
Dark Blue, “Sword and Soaring”
It's hard to believe that Sage Elsesser is only 28 years old. As Navy Blue, Elsesser has spent the last decade cultivating a hypnotic flow and a genuinely introspective lyrical style that set him apart from his fellow East Coast rappers like Earl Sweatshirt and MIKE, who revel in complex and mischievous wordplay. On his latest album, Elsesser sounds utterly ancient, like a prophet dispensing hard-won wisdom from a mountaintop, his words soaring like a sacred metronome over quiet, unhurried rhythms.
Navy Blue's music has never shied away from heavy emotions. Much of his discography deals with grief and loss. On “The Sword & the Soaring,” Elsesser sounds at peace, like a man no longer afraid of his demons: “All the moments spent in tears, I had to laugh / The past doesn’t hurt as much as it does, I’m whole,” he raps over a soulful piano line on “24 Gospel.” However, the past looms large as he remembers the mistakes and regrets that once haunted him, drawing strength from his faith. — RA
Slash Need, “Sit and Smile”
We often praise music for its escapism. When your own reality seems bleak, there's nothing better than burying your head in someone else's sandbox. But Toronto post-punk band Slash Need's Sit & Grin reminds us that the best art is not what distracts us from the moment we're living in, but what provokes a primal, head-on collision with the world around us.
Their explosive debut features an electro-industrial backdrop that complements the duo's ruminations on frontier town politics, greed, conservatism and interpersonal conflict. Listeners are drawn into chaos – theirs, yours, society. It's an exciting ride with catharsis waiting on the other side. — EH
