Anthony Casuccio's "The Rockstar," is, well, not what you expect, especially if you were picturing spandex and teased hair. It's a raw, honest pour of musicality, almost like watching someone build a guitar from scratch right in front of you. He’s not pretending; this is what he does, he is music. That kind of dedication, you can feel it. It's like catching a stray...

There is a peculiar friction to the digital textures of Skylarka and her new album, "Somnorine". It’s supposed to be chiptune-influenced synthwave, but listening to it feels less like browsing the internet and more like chewing on aluminum foil while watching Blade Runner on a CRT monitor that’s slowly degaussing. It’s a sensory contradiction bright, crystalline pop hooks wrestling with the deep, existential dread...