Stream of the Crop: 9 New Albums for Heavy Rotation

The end of the week means a glut of new music to dig into and, while that is Extremely Good, it can be difficult to know where to start. So every week, we at Noisey put together a list of our favorite new albums, mixtapes, and EPs from the past seven days. You can listen to them all on this page. It is neither comprehensive nor fair. We hope it helps.

21 Savage arguably began his meteoric rise with Savage Mode last year, thanks to inspired production from Metro Boomin that paired 21's sorrowful aura with equally spectral beats. Issa Album was a necessary, successful step into lighter fare, but truly, we were all waiting for 21 to return to the shadows (musically, that is). Arriving on the first Halloween of the post-truth era, Without Warning serves as a sequel and expansion pack to Savage Mode, honing in on the same dark chemistry that made the previous project special but introducing Offset as a more energetic foil to 21's heavy-lidded flow. —Phil Whitmer, Metro Boomin, 21 Savage, and Offset's Surprise EP Is a Gory Delight

Seinfeld's first full-length isn't the sort of half-joking affair that his critics might've come to expect[…] It might not redeem the whole of lo-fi house for skeptics either, but its sweeping, bookish observance of house music history is something to behold. It also offers, for the first time, a curiously vulnerable glimpse into the light-hearted producer's personal life, positing itself in a press release as "an extended post-heartbreak love letter… from a silent dance floor." If anything, Time feels more attuned to the hours after leaving the club: a friend passing out on a couch, a TV set to re-runs for no one in particular, and a YouTube stream playing of a long-forgotten club mix ripped from cassette, implanting a sense of nostalgia for a party you never even went to. —Tim Gagnon, DJ Seinfeld Is Not a Punchline

Houston producer Rabit's first couple of big releases leaned heavily on Christian aesthetics. They were called Communion and Baptizm, and featured tracks with names like "Advent," but the music that accompanied those titles were largely fractured and confrontational electronic pieces, a bit more bleak and bruised than what you might typically consider sacred music. His new record Les Fleurs Du Mal sheds that tough skin to reveal something that feels a bit more vulnerable. The noise is mostly excised in favor of lonely drones and gentle ambience swirl delicately offering desolation and hope in near equal measure—making this one an honest document of these end times. —Colin Joyce

Cannibal Corpse's excellent new album, Red Before Black (their 14th!) just came out via longtime collaborators Metal Blade Records. By now, the Florida icons have notched over two dozen releases—19 of which have featured Fisher's signature raspy, pile-driving death growls. He joined the band in 1995, replacing vocalist Chris Barnes (who went on to form Six Feet Under) in time to record 1996's Vile. With Barnes's departure came a subtle but important shift in the band's eye-poppingly graphic cover art and lyrical themes, which up until that point had been shockingly, violently misogynistic (and which had gotten their earlier albums banned in Germany, Russia, and Australia). This was the era of "Fucked With a Knife," "Entrails Ripped from a Virgin's Cunt," and "She Was Asking for It," The Fisher era ushered in a new kind of gore—still horror-inspired, still gratuitous, but, crucially, non-gendered. He still sings many of those early songs onstage, but now, as Fisher told me, "We kill everybody indiscriminately." —Kim Kelly, Chewing the Fat with Cannibal Corpse's Corpsegrinder

"They say we don't feel pain, they say we're gross and vain," sings Shamir on their latest track "90's Kids," a gorgeous lo-fi ballad that has the sticky, meandering quality of something you'd overhear your flatmate humming in the shower, or crackling out your neighbor's radio. The sort of thing that would have you pressing your ear against the wall to get a better listen. Except it isn't just a catchy pop song. It also perfectly articulates that intoxicating blend of existential dread, paralysing anxiety and relatable humour that will be familiar to anybody who is young and spends a lot of time scrolling through memes on their phone until their eyes feel dry and their brain feels like a smashed compass. —Daisy Jones, On Pop Music, Instagram Anxiety, and Being Alone

The Austin, Texas electronic quartet—whose work on the Stranger Things soundtrack exposed them to a massive new audience—return with an EP of remixes that keeps the spirit of Halloween alive for at least another week. Contributions come from Lena Willikens, Not Waving, Sam Haar (Blondes) and Justin K Broadrick aka JK Flesh (Godflesh, Jesu). —Alex Robert Ross

Willow Smith said in an interview with the FADER that in the last two years, she's been been buckling down dedicating to learning musical theory in addition to the vocal lessons she's been taking since her childhood, and in The 1st, it shows. In her charmingly ambitious sophomore album about teenage love, growth, angst, and the value she's found in staying true to herself, Willow channels inspirations like Lauryn Hill and Tori Amos. Her voice soars on standout tracks such as "Romance" and "Warm Honey", making her a musical force to be reckoned with, despite her youth. —Tiffany Wines

Hailing from Baton Rouge, Cain, whose birth name is Samuel Nicholas, embodies the best qualities of rappers from the city, writing songs full of self reflection and first-hand observations of how turbulent life can be at times. "I just pour it out." When he talks about regrets about the past, it's driven by his hope for the future. When he's celebrating and having fun, there's that barely noticeable, but still present, undertone of sadness. Don't confuse his pensiveness for emotion, though. "I could sit here all night and tell you about the people that mean something to me, but ain't gonna do nothing but get people emotional. I ain't no emotional-ass nigga. I'm a straightforward-ass nigga. You know what I'm saying? If I say something I mean something. If I tell you I love you then I love you. And I'm a die behind it." —Trey Smith, Mista Cain, A King Uncrowned

James Holden, the UK-based producer and composer, trades solitary experimentalism for collective effervescence on The Animal Spirits, his first album with a band of the same name. Inspired by his time playing in Morocco with gnawa great Maalem Mahmoud Guinia, the record seems to embrace the unpredictability and collaborative ecstasy of playing in a band setting. The pieces here should be kinda chin-strokey—Holden tends toward trance-inducing prog excursions and jazz-fusion contortions—but you can hear the joy in the way the band bounces off each other, a reminder that there's nothing more fun than doing Nerd Shit with your friends. —Colin Joyce

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