Doja Cat: Planet Her (RCA) “She doesn’t write love songs, she writes sex
songs,” I told my wife, who was liking what she heard. “Good for her,” she
replied, and given the sprezzatura of this definitely biracial, avowedly ADHD
26-year-old dropout from both Alice Coltrane’s ashram and the L.A. Unified
School District’s performing arts academy, I say yeah. But that as with the
Carly Pearce EP-LP split at a more postmodern level of filler manufacture
and songwriting savoir-faire, not one of the five add-ons that bulk up the“deluxe” version, now the only one Amazon has on sale, has been released
as a single, a fact I determined after I found myself zoning out as my deluxe
CD spritzed pornographically on. So as with the Carly Pearce EP, I’ve
burned myself a 14-track original version that has the great virtue of never
reminding me of the Weeknd even when he’s on it. A MINUS

FKA Twigs: Caprisongs (Atlantic Mod) “There’s not as much focus on
experimentation and expression, which could disappoint some exacting
fans” (Clash Music) “while easing up slackers who’ve always been irritated
by her pretentious renown” (And It Don’t Stop) (“Lightbeamers,” “Oh My
Love”) *

Nas: King’s Disease (Mass Appeal ‘20) Showcasing the powers,
pleasures, responsibilities, contradictions, and elephantiasis of the ego that
accrue to so many hip-hop tycoons (“Car #85,” “10 Points”) **