I didn't mean to celebrate the Current's 20th anniversary by picking one of its latest Chart Show victors as my dud to avoid. (I'll say right now that I get good tips from their local coverage every week.) But some battles must be fought!
Local Picks
Not to be confused with the Tyler, the Creator song, this pussy-crazed track pants, revs, slavers, and bounces out the door before you can say “thank you, ma’am.” Kiaa has been busy in 2025—she’s since dropped the rock ‘n’ Auto-Tune cut “Slit,” and I gotta say, she’s definitely up front about her interests.
The Dregs, “Fill a Hole in the Sky”
On the lead track from the Dregs self-titled debut, Eilif Dregni exuberantly draws from the same Elton John well that the Scissor Sisters once did, though his vocals more prominently echo John Lennon—from the era when he was duetting with Elton John, of course.
Ice Climber, “No Yeah, For Sure”
Three full years into its existence, this madcap septet drops a debut album loaded with jokes and pathos, heavy sludge and racing hardcore, and lots of saxophone because why not? Hard to pick a fave, but let’s go with Xochi de la Luna dismissing your naive assurances (“A friend is getting back with their ex, says it's gonna work out,” “I say I'm depressed, folks say I just need some vitamin D,” etc.) with suitable skepticism.
The dreamy runners-up in last year’s Picked to Click are getting serious: They've since signed to the Photo Finish label and hired a national PR firm. Their first new track since is big, warm, and (spoiler) rocks out at the end. Should we start calling this style “shoegraze”?
True Green, “Consider the Priesthood”
As a big fan of True Green’s My Lost Decade last year, I was happy to hear that Dan Hornsby was back so quickly with two new songs. His reportedly dark new album will draw from his altar boy experiences, and its quietly haunting, impressionistic first single obliquely hints at what's to come. The B-side, "Falconry," is no slouch either.
Non-Local Picks
"’Will she ever lose?' Man, I guess we'll never know.” Doechii’s Grammy victory lap is as ungracious as you’d expect, comparing haters as salty as Lawry’s to her period and shouting out “all the bitches I surpassed.” Never change, girl.
I feel bad for making a little joke at Twigs’s expense last week, especially since I've warmed up to Eusexua. She's still a bit precious about her sexual idiosyncrasies, but she's also more vociferous about them—both she and her music are expanding outward rather than cocooning in defense. And she's not above kidz-bopping to a peppy tune while 11-year-old North West, for some reason, raps in Japanese.
Ale Hop & Titi Bakorta, “Bonne année”
Since belatedly learning about Nyege Nyege Tapes last year, I’ve gone all in on the Ugandan dance label. And they haven’t disappointed, starting the year off right with this team up of versatile Peruvian electronicat Ale Hop and fleet Congolese guitarist Titi Bakorta. The beats are energetically cumbia-adjacent and the fleet streams of guitar recall the speed soukous of Diblo Dibala’s Loketo, if that means anything to you. Even if it doesn’t, anyone tickled by this track should proceed directly to the duo’s full length, Mapambazuko.
Sleigh Bells, “Wanna Start A Band?”
Well, sure sounds like somebody heard 100 gecs and figured it was high time to get back in the game. Anyone who still says this duo shot their wad with their debut shortchanges how multifaceted their fembot wham bam can be, not to mention their knack for a tune. Ah well—live by the novelty fetish, die by the novelty fetish.
Taking the hint, Katie Crutchfield's drawl gets even countrier, and MJ Lenderman pulls backup duty once more. Following the overly fancied "I'm not the onе to be privy to your fiction” with the gritty and plain “get your shit together” is so very, very Crutchfield.
Worst New Song
Brigitte Calls Me Baby, “Too Easy”
I thought these retro hypes had already had their day before I saw ’em dominating the Current’s Chart Show. If your soul thrills to the sound of Orbison without the doom or Morrissey without the wit—and I'm bending over as far backwards to be generous as my aged lumbar will allow—then maybe these naive romantics who think style died before they were born (and have the haircuts to prove it) are the arch retro janglers of your sepia-toned reveries. And if so, you deserve banalities like "If everything was as it seemed/Memories wouldn’t feel like dreams."
Wanna get a local song considered for the playlist? To make things easy on both of us, email keith@racketmn.com with MONDAY PLAYLIST in the subject header. (Don’t, as in do NOT, DM or text: If I’m in a good mood, I’ll just ask you to send an email; if I’m in a bad mood I’ll just ignore it.)
