An ambitious sophomore record from one of Britain’s most exciting bands, The Worm is an expansive rock opera that speaks volumes on its storytelling and themes. Setting in a mediaeval fantasy world where England was occupied by large worms, the album largely took its influences from Radiohead, Black Midi, and theatrical musicals like Jesus Christ Superstar.

Frontman Henry Spychalski describes the record as being anachronistic, a deliberate artistic licence to highlight the similarity between The Worm’s world and ours. On tracks like “Saddest Worm Ever”, we are treated to lines that allude to then-futuristic objects like a gun as if to show how in control the narrator is. Meanwhile, “Past Life Sinnerman’s Song” interpolates the piano from Nina Simone’s most acclaimed cover to show the drastic change of heart. What could’ve been a disorientating call away from the imaginative concept instead reinforces the whole that is greater than the sum of its parts.

It is not the worldbuilding or the surface narrative that matters, but rather the climatic subtext of dejection, delusion, and hopelessness. Themes that pervade in Spychalski’s mind at the beginning of “Liverpool Street”. One might see the Worms as being emblematic of mental health, but the nationwide context of political dysfunction and growing cynicism adds to The Worm’s literary excellence long after its release.

On one listen, we imagine the worms to be our self-projected arrogance against the limits of what we can and cannot do. On another, it’s a damning critique on scapegoating and boogeyman in which we blame others without accepting our responsibility. Such is what makes The Worm an enthralling experience as behind its symphonies and prog-like cohesion, it offers one of the finest songwriting of this year, maybe this decade even. – MC

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Arguably one of the most immediate artists to land on the internet in recent years, MID AIR, the third project by LA-duo Paris Texas, keeps up their track record. Filled with punchy and definitive tracks, Louie Pastel and Felix refine their creative flow and lyricism against trap-rock production. The result makes their first full-length album infectious.

Together, they play hypemen and storytellers, cutting up each other’s flows and namedropping to absurdity while pulling in a select few collaborators that flirt with their nature. On “Full English” Teezo Touchdown is recruited to reference everything from Nando’s, bad weather, Corteiz, Tesco, and baked beans, while “BULLET MAN” finds the duo back in the US, drawing a dry ‘humour’ out of a shooting epidemic. As the trajectory of Paris Texas continues to unfold, previous comparisons to Odd Future and BROCKHAMPTON become ever-lousy, they’re in a lane of their own. – HB

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The rule of thumb for reforming artists is their live shows will be celebratory moments of nostalgia, bringing both the artist and audience back to a halcyon time in the past. The band and audience are older, but thesongs make them feel young again. Therein lies theproblem of releasing new music. When artists are rooted in a specific era of musical history, a remembrance oftimes past is usually proof of the law of diminishing returns.

Following their return in 2017 with their eponymously titled comeback record, Slowdive continue to buck thenostalgia trend with everything is alive. A creative and commercial peak 30 years in, it’s a remarkable achievement that bucks how this story usually works. It’s a record that harnesses the unexpected durability ofshoegaze, where the possibilities of sound embraces timelessness, as opposed to Britpop’s hedonistic soundtrack to the ‘90s.

everything is alive draws on the deaths of Rachel Goswell’s mother and Simon Scott’s father, which lends the songs a sense of memento mori, where everything must come to an end eventually. But it’s also the soundof rebirth, moving effortlessly from the sensuality of“chained to a cloud” - possibly the best song they’ve written, which would have been a perfect fit on Vangelis’ Blade Runner soundtrack in 1982 - to the blissful pop hooks of “kisses”, that’s seen them embraced by theinstant gratification of TikTok in 2023.

With guitar music in a state of stasis what 2023 needed was a statement of intent, where there’s still life in theformat, and not only life, but a progressive idea of what guitar music can be now – challenging, emotional and above all, restlessly exciting. That Slowdive would be theband to deliver that this year is both a cause for optimism and a triumph against the odds. – EN

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Building from the success of 2019’s The Livelong Day, this year's False Lankum took the Irish quartet’s prose, power and promise to dark new depths. Their third album on Rough Trade, it propelled the group to wide-reaching acclaim, wrenching traditional folk approach and lore into the rough and ominous context of 2023. Originally written in the throes of Ireland’s lockdowns in a Martello Tower by the sea, the impact of both socio-political and geographic conditions can be felt across the album. Collaborating again with producer John “Spud” Murphy, officially the group’s unofficial fifth member, his experimental and expansive skills bring a dynamic, arresting and innovative spear to the record’s sonics. Taking cues from traditional folk songs and stories, then twisting them with fresh ideas, dark drones and a foreboding thunderstorm of sound, the group create something that’s as unnerving as it is indulgent.

From the acapella opening of “Go Dig My Grave,” Radie Peat’s compelling vocals both strident and otherworldly, the record journeys through a series of startling moments and revelations. There’s the hauntingly discordant but equally melodic “Clear Away in the Morning,” the rich and expansive storytelling of “Newcastle,” and the stridently abrasive delivery of “The New York Tradesman.” It’s a thrilling album that propelled Lankum into mainstream attention with a Mercury Music Prize nomination and a sold-out show at London venue The Roundhouse to end their year.

However, don’t expect the group to sell out in any other manner. Earlier this year Peat and Murphy, alongside fellow Irish musicians Eleanor Myler and Katie Kim launched their side-project ØXN, an even deeper and more startling continuation of traditional Irish folk performance. Releasing their debut recordCYRM through the relaunched folk stable Claddagh Records it took cues from where False Lankum left off, twisting and experimenting with the genre even further. Keeping a light on in the darkness, their continued revitalisation of this rich and historic genre will surely continue to reap rewards. – JL

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It was adventurous of Home Is Where to open their first full-length album with a five-minute song that disintegrates into atonal tinkering with musical saws and various other quirky percussion instruments. It was adventurous, too, to give the album’s screamo-into-the-abyss midpoint a title like “Everyday Feels like 9/11.” Emo was always at its best when at its bravest, though; the genre’s vanguard acts – from Cap’n Jazz to, more recently, The Hotelier – continue to define this hard-to-nail, constantly morphing form of emotional punk music. It’s feasible – perhaps inevitable – that Home Is Where will be equally revered in a decade or two, as The Whaler respects what’s come before while ramming it into a fresh, sometimes terrifying direction.

Trans woman Brandon MacDonald leads the Florida quartet, and though discussion of gender dysphoria is only implicit on The Whaler, it ostensibly feeds the album’s preoccupation with the human body, which interfaces with the natural world via grotesque, expressionistic imagery in her lyrics. From track titles “Skin Meadow” and “Floral Organs” to lines such as “Pulling weeds out of your spine / And all our lawns are cut the same way,” MacDonald illuminates the body’s fragility and concurrently humanity’s level playing field. The Whaler is the band contending with the horror of modern America by using these reference points – the things closest to home, at once ubiquitous and yet unreliable.

Still, for all its intensity and nihilism, The Whaler knows when to ease off the gas. There are the snowdrop guitar arpeggios of “Yes! Yes! A Thousand Times Yes!.” There are the quietly sputtering, short-circuiting synths at the end of “Whale for Sport,” space to take a few deep breaths before the chilling discordance of “9/11.” There’s also the rusty Americana of “Daytona 500,” the most sunny-sounding cut, even if it does conclude with the complaint: “The end of the world is taking forever.” Thank god we have music to pass the time. – HM

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